Some are tough to kill
by CristalDawn
Summary: A job goes not how it was supposed to go. They get away, but a much bigger nightmare is lurking in the shadows ...
1. Run

Illya knew from the beginning, that it had been a bad idea.

But despite his bad feeling he had allowed it and now they had no way to go.

Carefully he looked over the wall.

Out there was a sniper waiting to put a hole into his skull. Grimly he lowered himself back down.

Next to him Gaby drew in a sharp breath and he could't help but snap his head around to her.

She had curled her good arm around the broken one.

He didn't know how bad it was, but she looked pale.

Her lips a tight line and no color at all.

She looked up at him now.

Stubbornly she pushed her chin up and he could see how she tried to hide the pain.

Despite all her effort it was still there.

„Can you run?" As soon as it was out of his mouth he regretted it.

Her eyes shot daggers at him.

„I'm no fragile, little flower Kuryakin. My arm is broken. I don't need it to run!"

He hid a smile and nodded towards the garage.

„They hide cars in there"

She nodded once.

„You run. I give you backup!" He loaded his gun and nodded at her once.

Illya couldn't help but notice her staggering at first and then she ran for the shed.

As soon as she was safe he followed her.

They made their entrance into the shed and Illya sighed in relief when he noticed that the shed indeed held three big cars.

There were no keys so he hotwired one of them.

Soon the engine roared to life and they both got in.

He didn't bother to open the door, he just used the car as a breaker.

The road was winding and he was glad he had participated in the U.N.C.L.E. driving school.

Soon they were of the estate and on the normal roads.

Solo had sent them the coordinates of the hideout.

Illya didn't slow the car down.

He wanted to bring as much distance between them and the estate than possible.

Just when he turned another corner he relaxed a little and eased of the gas.

You never knew where those police men sat always there where you didn't need them.

He glanced over to the little mechanic.

She watched the road behind them carefully.

"I don't think they will follow us!" He murmured and she turned to him.

"I know… just …" She shook her head and her gaze turned to the rearview mirror.

He glanced back too.

Gaby let her gaze return to Illya.

There was a blue bruise building on his jaw and his eyes were determind on the road.

She let her self breath a little easier.

She knew they weren't out of danger.

The location of Solo's hideout was not that far and still Gaby couldn't quite relax.

She blamed it on the adrenaline still cursing through her body.

While her eyes darted between Illya, the road behind and ahead her hand absentmindedly brushed over her side.

As her finger suddenly touched something sticky and wet, it ran icy cold down her spine.

Her gaze snapped to Illya, who just checked the rearview mirror.

She eased back in the seat and pressed her hand on the wound.

She needn't to take a look.

She knew it was blood.

Gaby couldn't remember when a bullet had hit her.

„You're okay?" Illya's voice let her head snap up.

„I'm peachy! The bad guys are on our tail and I have a broken arm! It's just amazing. Couldn't be better!" She greeted between her teeth.

She took a careful breath.

Every breath was like a stab to the side.

The little mechanic convinced herself that it wasn't that far to Solo and he would know what to do.

Illya had enough to worry about.

Gaby had to fight to keep her eyes open.

She felt the warm blood leaking through her fingers.

Her time was running out.

Finally the small house came into view and Illya stopped the car close to the door.

At any other time Gaby would have marveled about the fairy tale like resemblance of the house, but the only concern she had tonight was not to pass out on Illya's watch.

Before Illya had put the car into gear Gaby was out.

Her boots sank into the mud and clumsily she made her way to the cottage.

Minutes ago Solo must have sat in the big armchair with his newspaper, but now the American jumped up and concern flickered over the usually composed face.

„Gaby what's wrong?"

Gaby opened her mouth to snap at him that she was okay.

She snapped her mouth shut as she felt her knees give out under her.

Later she marveled about the fact that in such situations time seemed to slow down.

As for she could feel the sudden heat of Illya's body right behind her and his arm snakeing around her middle as her body tipped forward.

Solo rushing to her side and so many other things before the world turned black.


	2. Solo’stalent

Napoleon Solo looked up from his newspaper as the front door crashed open and Gaby Teller swayed in the doorframe.

He knew instantly that there was something wrong.

Her face was pale and her left arm hung weird at her side.

„Gaby what's wrong?" He blurted and was already out of his chair.

Where was Illya?

Did the big Russian guy got compromised?

Just as he finished the thought Illya came into view.

Towering behind Gaby, who looked like death itself.

She swayed, clutching the door handle like her life depended on it, but then her legs gave out and luckily Illya had fast reflexes and grabbed the small woman.

Carefully Illya lowered her to the floor.

„Peril…" Just then Illya raised his hand slick with blood.

Solo sharply drew in air.

„Is that?" Illya lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing.

Her head lolling to the side.

„Get her to the kitchen table! I'll get my kit!" Solo darted off to get the first aid kit.

Over the years being in this job Napoleon Solo had learnt how to patch himself up.

It was a nice talent and sometimes he thought if his life had been different he would have been a doctor.

Right now he would be able to safe is partner's life.

He stopped in the doorframe of the kitchen taking in the scene in front of him.

Gaby looked small on the huge kitchen table and the big brooding Russian towering over her looked like he was rooted to the spot.

Solo noticed that Illya held her hand massaging little circles on the back of her hand and his face looked so vulnerable in that moment.

If he messed that up he already knew that Illya wouldn't forgive him nor would he.

"Can you hold her down? It's gonna hurt and I need her to lay as still as possible!" Solo opened the first aid kit picking out the tools he would use.

Illya nodded and his huge hands secured Gaby to the table.

Solo glanced at the small German.

Hadn't it be for her chest softly raising and falling he would have believed her dead.

Solo cut open her shirt.

It was caked in blood and there was still some leaking from the wound.

"It's a deep gash. I assume it must have been a stray bullet! Be ready Peril. That's gonna hurt!"

Solo tried to be as gentle as possible, but it wasn't easy.

By the time he was finished Illya and he were both drenched and Gaby was left to whimpers.

Illya carefully picked her up and lowered her on to the couch, covering her with a soft blanket.

"We have to call the doctor in the morning. Someone has to look at her arm!" Solo filled to glasses with some brandy.

There was no vodka, but Illya took the tumbler gratefully.

While Solo zipped on his drink he watched his partner.

"You okay?" Illya tore his gaze from the little mechanic.

"I'm fine!" He rumbled and then his blue eyes drifted back.

"I'll watch her. You should take a shower and get changed!" Solo nudged him and to his surprise the Russian didn't object.

While he heard the shower run Solo called Waverly and informed him about the situation.

The English man promised to send a doctor in the morning and told him to lay low for now.


	3. New Job

There was soft morning light coming in from the windows when Gaby opened her eyes.

She blinked against the light and looked around.

There were soft voices in another room.

She smelled coffee and the light sent of burned toast.

Her stomach growled in response and she tried to get up.

There was a sharp pain to her side and it let her gasp for air.

Gaby pushed through the pain and got to her feet.

Someone had dressed her in a dress shirt.

It was huge, reaching her knees and could have been a dress for her.

She couldn't help but smile and shuffled towards the food smell.

Half way through the living room the whole room tilted on her and she blinked rapidly against the dark edges on her vision.

„You shouldn't be up!" A deep voice rumbled and she looked up way to quickly as the room swayed dangerously.

She gave Kuryakin a lopsided smile and tried to straiten.

It only caused her to stumble forward a few steps.

Illya was as at her side in an instant placing his hands carefully where it wouldn't hurt her.

Carefully she drew in some breath and murmured a thanks for a change.

The Russian guided her to a chair in the kitchen.

The short walk had worn her out and she needed a few seconds to collect some strength.

As she opened her eyes Napoleon had placed a jam toast on her plate, pretending now that the coffee maker was a new invention and Illya nudged a juice glass her way, biting in his own toast.

„Doctor will be here soon. Said you should eat!" He eyed her toast and than glanced at her.

She hasn't even eaten half of her toast when there was a knock at the door.

Napoleon jumped up and seconds later returned with a bony man.

He wore a long brown coat and a black hat, which looked battered. In his hand he nervously clutched a big bag.

His milky eyes darted around the room and settled on Illya.

Gaby could see that for a second they widened in fear, but moved on quickly to her.

„You must be my patient!" He spoke softly and stepped to her.

Gaby could feel Illya shift and moving a little closer to her.

The doctor ignored him and kneeled down in front of her.

He opened his bag and in the light of the kitchen something glittered.

„This will just sting a little, but it will keep out the bacteria!" The doctor was gentle but firm and before Gaby knew her broken arm was in a cast and the doc had examined the stitches and complemented Solo on his work.

At the end of the examination she got another syringe to help her relax.

„You have to take these", he held up a small bottle of pills, „every morning and evening. It is for your blood restoration!" He gave her the bottle and Gaby clutched them to her chest and got up.

She felt lightheaded and was glad when she felt the warm hand of Illya under her elbow.

Her elbow felt like glass in his big hand.

It made him aware that she was so fragile and still, as he looked at her, she was so strong.

Even now she forced every step forward pretending that she was fine.

They reached the sofa and Gaby nearly collapsed on it.

He helped her to get comfortable and as he put the cover over her she was already out.

Solo and the doctor were in the kitchen and talked in low voices.

Illya didn't like the doc and stood behind Solo's chair, crossing his arms.

„The nice doctor gave us a message from Waverly! We have to leave for Paris!" Solo's hand rested on an envelope.

„What about Gaby?" Illya glowered at the doc, who seemed to enjoy the coffee.

„Miss Teller will be ready soon. I assume she fell asleep?" The doc looked up and Illya could see a hint of fear glimmering in the man's eyes.

He nodded once.

„We talk about this later Peril!" Solo may have sounded casual, but Illya knew the American way too well to hear the subtle hint of „I don't trust the doc either!"

Solo brought the man to the car and Illya felt his whole body relax as he heard the car take off.

„Get Gaby! We have to go!" Solo said clipped and stormed into the bedroom.

Illya stared after his partner in disbelief, but his body already sprung do action and he stepped to the couch, where Gaby slept peacefully.

She looked so fragile and tiny between all the blankets and cushions.

Illya scooped her up and before he reached the door the American was already there and opened it.

The morning was warm and the sun was shining through the trees.

Illya dared to call it peaceful as he stepped over the mud to the car.

Gaby moaned as he carefully put her in the car.

„You should get in too!" Solo said from the back.

„I'm driving!" The Russian spit and Solo shook is head at him.

„Not today my Russian friend. I need you to keep an eye on her. You know best when something is off with her!" Illya blinked at him in disbelief.

Til now he had thought his affection towards the German woman were well hidden.

He was KGB's best after all.

Solo got in the driver's seat and started the car, leaving Illya not much time to decide.

They were on the road towards god knows where when Illya finally found his voice again.

The little mechanic had curled her hand into his jacket and sometimes talked in her sleep.

It was incomprehensible to him no matter how hard he strained his ears to understand.

„Where are you taking us Cowboy? Are you in a rush?" He mocked the American.

Solo just glanced at him from the rearview mirror.

„Waverly is sending us to Paris! There's a ball we have to attend and you'll never know who followed the doc up to the house."

Illya nodded and glanced at Gaby who had furrowed her brow.

Gently he brushed a hairstrand from her face, she leaned into his hand.

He felt Solo's eyes watching him, but for once he didn't care.

„How is she doing?" Illya looked up and locked eyes with the American.

„Sleeping!" He rumbled and let his fingers travel over the cast, which was now peaking out of the blankets.

Gaby stirred and mumbled something.

He remembered way too clearly how her arm had been broken.

His mind drifted to last night where everything had gone wrong.

_Solo had left them alone in the fairly small room. _

_Normally he wouldn't object to be in a small room with Gaby, but the German woman had been pacing around in the room the whole evening and Illya couldn't concentrate on his chess play in front of him._

_"Sit down!" He had growled after a while and to his surprise the small woman had stopped, glared at him and let herself fall next to him. _

_This wasn't better. _

_Her closeness irritated him way more and his mind had drifted to things he wanted to do with the little chop shop girl._

_Of course Gaby sensed his sudden stiffness and teasingly put her feet in his lap. _

_This caused him to look up. _

_He was met by her sparkling, brown eyes and her bold grin, which had left him every time dumbfounded. _

_"This is very dangerous!" He murmured and Gaby had risen an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. _

_"I live for dangerous!" She whispered. _

_He was just about to say something when the ringing of the phone let them both jerk up._

_The car was waiting for them and brought them to the estate. _

_Everything seemed to go according to plan. _

_They were in the dark building in no time. _

_It was mostly deserted and as they walked through the hallways they both made hardly any sound. _

_The guards were overconfident that none would break in. _

_Who would be that stupid?!_

_In a small office Illya had found the acquired folders. _

_Gaby had taken on another office and he could hear her going through the desk through his earpiece. _

_He couldn't help but smile as he heard her murmur in frustration. _

_He was just about to tell her that he had been successful as the noise of the savety hilt of a gun let him freeze in place. _

_„Raise your hands!" A heavy accented voice demanded. _

_„Seriously? You point a weapon at a colleague?" He heard Gaby answer. _

_Illya had already broke into a run. _

_„I don't know you!" The man answered unsure. _

_Illya practically could hear her eyeroll through the earpiece. _

_„No wonder, we are so many and it's not like they throw a Christmas party every year." As soon as the last word was out of her mouth there was a struggle and a heavy tud to the floor. _

_„Oh god, why are you so easily fooled?" Illya released the air in a huff he was holding. _

_Of course Gaby had overpowered the man. _

_He couldn't help but smile proudly. _

_„I'm on my way!" He told her through the transmitter. _

_„I'm fine. He just …" She gasped in surprise and then there was another voice through her transmitter, which let Kuryakin stop in his tracks. _

_„I believe you have my folders. Bring them to me and I won't harm the girl!" He heard Gaby struggle. _

_„Don't you dare! I can handle….!" He heard her gasp in pain. _

_„Believe me one twist and your arm is broken!" The treat was meant for her, but Illya had known that the man wasn't joking around. _

_„Tell him I'm on my way!" He greeted out. _

_„He is already on his way to the meeting point you are too late!" Gaby told her capturer instead. _

_There was a short silence until the raspy voice whispered „Let's give him a little demonstration, shall we!" _

_Illya had been now running at full speed. _

_Damn that little chop shop girl. _

_She had no clue in what danger she was in. _

_The sound of a bone breaking vibrated through his earpiece, but didn't slow him down. _

_He just turned the corner and came to a skidding halt as the little German fell as if someone had cut her strings. _

_All color had left her face. _

_The man looming over her wasn't aware of Illya and the Russian used the momentum and charged for the man. _

_It was a quick fight and soon Illya helped Gaby to her feet. _

_She was shaking and her arm hung unnaturally at her side. _

_„We have to get out of here!" He had murmured to her not daring to touch the arm. _

_She swayed dangerously on her feet. _

_He was ready to grab her, but again she pulled herself together and nodded. _

_„Let's go!" It was just then that the alarm rang._

Illya couldn't remember when Gaby had been nicked by the bullet, but neither of the two should have happened.

She was now sleeping on the hotel couch.

A sheen of sweat covering her forehead and plastering her hair to it.

As the door opened he didn't look up.

„I got the soup! You sure you want to make her eat?" Solo gave him a little carton box, which was warm to the touch.

„Chicken soup helps and she needs food!" Illya shook her shoulder gently and to his relief her eyelids fluttered and soon she blinked at him.

A weak smile spread over her face.

He made her eat and for once there was no complaint.

Illya put the box away when there was no more soup left.

„How do you feel?" Solo asked over his newspaper.

„I'm fine! Stop fussing over me!" She whispered angrily.

Illya looked at her with a frown.

There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was pale.

She opened her mouth to say probably more, but she clasped her hand over it and struggled to get up.

Illya reacted faster and before she could stand he had a bowl in front of her and she gave her whole dinner out.

He held her hair until she was finished and sank back.

Paler than before.

Solo looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

„Dinner didn't quite suit the lady!" Illya glared at him as he went to the bathroom to dump the evidence and get a glass of water and a washing cloth.

When Gaby was settled again.

Illya stood up and as he watched the little German fall asleep he murmured „This is not normal!"

„I agree with you Peril!" Illya looked at his partner, who was now putting away his newspaper.

There was a deep line on his forehead and Illya got to know that Solo was worried.

„I'll call Waverly to send someone. Maybe a nurse, who will look after her while we are out!" They both snapped their heads to Gaby when she made a weird sound as if she wasn't getting enough air.

Illya kneeled immediately next to her.

His fingers flying unsure over her.

He didn't for once knew what to do.

„She's burning hot!" He said over his shoulder.

Solo looked grim and dialed the number of their handler.

Waverly asured Solo that he would send a nurse for Gaby and that he had organized another honeypot for the evening.

The American was not so sure if it would be possible to get the Russian away from Gaby, but he had to admit that he was worried as well.

The little German hadn't been sick this morning, but it had worsened in the car ride to Paris.

She hadn't woken the whole drive and even when Illya had carried her up to their hotelroom the little woman hadn't stirred in her blankets.

Illya got ready without any complaints and also Solo had put on one of the tux they had delivered to the suite.

„Waverly is sending one of his agents from Paris to the job. She will be waiting at the party!" Solo informed his partner, who was just stepping out of the bathroom.

„The nurse?" Illya rumbled and Solo looked at the small sleeping form.

„She will be here soon. The car is waiting for you and we will see eachother at the party!" Illya nodded shortly and was out the door.

Solo sighed in relief.

He had thought it to be harder to get the Russian going.


	4. Blackmail

The agent, who was waiting for Kuryakin was a tall woman.  
Not as tall as himself, but for a woman fairly tall.  
She had red lipstick and wavey blonde hair.  
She greeted him as if they had known each other for years and as they walked to the big party she quickly gave him an update on their situation.

The whole job seemed for once a fast affair.  
It took them under two hours to find their mark and take the acquired information from him.  
One of their field officers took the man away without any attention drawn to them.  
The woman went with the field officer to question the mark.

Solo and Illya were just about to head out of the party, when they got stopped by a small man with beady eyes.

„Going somewhere?" He asked, getting out a cigar.

„None of your business!" Illya growled.

He wanted to be back at the hotel to see how Gaby was doing.  
Solo placed his hand on the Russian's shoulder to calm him down.

They walked past the small man, but stopped in their tracks when he said „I assume you head back to your colleague. How is she by the way? Has the fever started yet?"

Illya whirled around.  
So did Solo.

„I assume she can't hold down any food nor liquids can she?" The man looked at them with a sick grin.

Solo noticed the tapping of Illya's finger against his tigh.

„What do you want?" Solo gritted out.

The beady eyes shifted to Napoleon. „It's not what I want. It's what you need"

The man checked his watch.

„I would say you need it very urgently or you two will attend a funeral very soon! I have no idea how long a woman with that small body can cope with the poison cursing through it."

The man took a long puff from his cigar.

„But luckily I need your skills Mr. Solo and your payment will be the antidote for Ms. Teller!"

Solo could see from the corner of his eyes how the color had drained from Illya's face.

„So you will give my friend the antidote while I will come with you?" Solo asked, but the man shook his head.

„I'm not stupid! You will come with me and as soon as you did your little job for me I will give you the antidote. It depends on you how fast you are working if the woman survives or not!"

The man looked amused between the two agents. „The clock is ticking. Every second you delay she is closer to death!"

The small man turned and walked away.  
Solo grabbed Illya's arm and pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

„Head back to the hotel. Tell the nurse that Gaby is poisoned. Maybe she knows what to do. I will hurry!" With that the two men split.

Illya ran out of the party and Solo followed the man.

Illya nearly threw the door out of its hinges at his return.   
The nurse, who had just bent over Gaby whirled around and stared at him with huge eyes.   
She had a gun pointed at him and once again Illya thanked Waverly in his mind.   
The man had sent someone capable to protect Gaby.   
Illya lifted his hands quickly.

„Poison! Someone has poisoned her!" He forced out between pants and the nurse lowered her gun.

„I nearly shot you Kuryakin!" She hissed, but already put away the gun and darted to her bag. „It came to my mind this evening. Her breathing is dangerously shallow at the moment and her temperature is raising by the minute!"

Illya just half listened to the nurse.   
He had already crossed the room in a few long strides and kneeled now beside Gaby.   
He cringed as he saw her now close up.

  
She had become more pale.   
Her skin nearly translucent letting the veins under it stand out in a stark contrast.   
Her breathing was shallow and quick.   
Illya took her hand and drew in air sharply.   
Her skin was scolding hot.   
He knew she was fighting for her life right now and he almost jumped when the nurse put her hand on his shoulder.

„I don't know if this works, but it helps with most poisons. One of our scientists invented it for the field!" Illya nodded and took the syringe.

The yellow liquid glicened in the dim light of the lamps.   
Gaby whimpered softly when he put the needle in her vein.   
When it was empty he gave it back to the nurse.

„Now comes the hardest part. Waiting!" She sighed and Illya sat next to the couch on the floor.

Only here he could be sure to pick up any abnormality of her breathing pattern.   
The nurse checked her every ten minutes.   
Assuring him that the breathing seemed to be better and that the temperature went down slowly.


	5. Fussing Russian’s and call

Opening her eyes seemed to be not easy these days. Slowly she opened them to a dim lit hotelroom. Next to her on the sofa lay Illya's head. His big hand was curled around her good hand. He must have fallen asleep right there.

Gaby looked around. In one of the armchair sat Solo also sleeping. His mouth slightly agape. Gaby sighed tiredly. She felt worn out like she had been training the whole time.

She moved her hand slightly and Illya's head flew up. His eyes drifted unfocused through the room before they settled on her. A small relieved smile spread over his face.

„You are awake!" He murmured and kissed her good hand softly.

The relief in his eyes let her pause.

„What happened?" She asked quietly.

Illya was clutching her hand so tightly that she couldn't move it.

„You were poisoned" A deep voice answered for Illya and Gaby looked up to Solo, who was now awake leaning forward in his armchair.

„Poisoned?" Gaby mouthed and stared at Illya.

In his eyes there was no answer.

„When?" She frowned.

Gaby couldn't remember when it would have happened. Illya shrugged.

„We don't know" He gritted between his teeth and got up to pace up and down in the room.

Solo and Gaby watched their partner, who was clearly upset and they both feared that the big Russian would fall in one of his fits.

Solo had to admit that it amazed him how calm Peril had been the whole night. The nurse hadn't hold back to tell them that Gaby might not make the night. Solo had been cautious and ready to calm his big friend down, but Peril had taken it all in stride and had stayed close to the little German. Every now and then he had checked her pulse, her temperature and her breathing. Of course Solo had stayed close too. Mostly for Peril.

The big brute was famous for his fits and just now he expected the Russian to blow up, but he just kept pacing. Gaby watched him too and closed her eyes tiredly. She looked much better than just hours ago, but Solo knew she wasn't quite well. Her briefly closing her eyes made Peril stop and he watched the girl. He continued as soon as she opened them again.

„Would you stop? You make me nervous!" She said quietly.

„How do you feel?" Solo watched her carefully.

She huffed and put her good arm over her eyes.

„I feel like you let a tank drive over me and put it in reverse!" Solo smiled there was the faint edge of the old Gaby in her voice.

As she tried to get up Illya was there. She didn't complain nor made a snappy comment. Illya let her walk by herself to the bathroom, hovering behind her. Solo knew all too well that the Russian was ready to catch her and it took a lot of selfrestraint of Peril not to lift her up.

„I'm heading down to the coffee shop, need anything?" He called into the bathroom and left.

It was better to leave those two alone for awhile.

Illya had heard Solo, but he was too occupied with the little mechanic, who looked like death herself. Now she was sitting on the toilet and gave him a death stare.

„I really appreciate you saving my life, but I can't", she made a motion towards the toilet, „If you're standing there, starring me down while I have to do my business!"

He looked at her confused. Didn't she know that she could collapse on the toilet and could hurt herself?

„Illya!" She growled and he left unwillingly.

He felt the urge to destroy something while he waited in front of the bathroom, but he had to be ready. He had to listen if there was something happening.Impatiently he walked up and down. His head bent and his ears strained for any sound.

The flushing of the toilet let his head snap around. Illya was just about to open the door, when she stood there. He swallowed hard. She still looked terrible and exhausted with dark circles under her eyes.

Gaby looked up at him and there was a small smile on her lips.

„I'm fine Illya!" She whispered, playing with the boutons of his shirt.

He watched her and tenderly brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. He knew she hated this.To be weak and depending on others.

She leaned back and looked at him through her thick lashes. The little mechanic fell forward all of a sudden, but he caught her and scooped her up.She weighted nothing in comparison to Solo, who he had to carry many times even though the American would never admit it.

"I'm sorry!" She murmured and sighed heavily.

"It's okey. Just sleep a little, you will feel better!" He whispered and gently placed her on the couch.

She watched him as he put the blanket over her and making everything as comfortable as possible. Gaby felt like an invalid, but she couldn't help her heart to warm for Illya. She was sure if she hadn't already fallen in love with him she would now.

Illya sat down at her feet and she watched him placing the chess figurines in front of him and starting to play against himself. She knew there was none better than him at chess. She had played against him many times and yes, he had let her win.

„How do you feel?" He rumbled and placed his queen before he turned his head to look at the German woman.

She blinked at him.

„I hate this!" Gaby whispered, closing her eyes.

„My head is pounding!" She complained and pulled the cover around her shoulders.

„Try to sleep!" He said, moving a pawn.

„I slept for years!" She grumbled, but as she watched him play her eyelids grew heavier.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes Illya was gone.It was quiet in the suite.There was no note.Of course Kuryakin wouldn't leave her a note. He probably had gone to get something to eat and thought he would be back before she would be awake.Gaby stretched and for the first time in a while she felt good.

Carefully she got up. The room only swayed for a short time and she walked to the bathroom without any stumble.After a hot shower she felt better and when she slipped into one of her summer dresses she let out a confident huff.

Just then the phone rang. It sounded weird in the quietness of the room. Hesitantly she picked up.

„Ah Miss Teller! Finally awake are we?" A voice snarled.

Gaby clutched the receiver harder to her ear.

„Who is there?" The voice on the other end didn't bother to answer her question.

„Where's the big Russian of yours? Or the clever American?"

Gaby's heart picked up speed.

„What do you want?" She snarled.

„There's a car waiting for you in front of the hotel. The driver will bring you to the location and you don't want to play any games with me or I will be forced to let one of your partners pay for it and I'm certain you don't want that!" He hung up on her then and Gaby stared at the wall.

There was a car waiting for her and she got in with a pounding heart. The driver didn't speak to her and after ten minutes he stopped the car in front of a run down warehouse.

Slowly he turned to her.

„Just walk in Miss Teller. They await you already!" He grinned at her, showing of a row with several missing teeth.


	6. Fall

The night was cold and Gaby slipped into her jacket, she had taken with her.  
The big gate was open and the little mechanic walked in.   
She tried to look as confident as possible, but her stomach was clenching in fear.   
Her footsteps were the only sound and echoing through the huge warehouse.

First it was dark and there was a smell she quite couldn't place.

Suddenly light flared up and she had to blink against the sudden brightness.

„Well, well, well Miss Teller! I am quite impressed! I didn't think you would come!" She whirled around to face a small man.

He grinned at her and his beady eyes watched her eager.

„I'm really sorry that I have poisoned you, but you see I had no other choice" She glared at him. „There is only one way to distract your partners and I had to bring Mr. Solo to steal something for me. There is no other good motivation for that man as to safe your life. So they basically didn't leave me with much of a choice!"

„When?" She gritted out.

„Ah, well you probably know Mr. Barnes?" Out of the shadows stepped a tall, bony man.

The doctor.

„I feel terrible to have caused you such pain, but it kept your partners distracted and you know it is really hard to get your hands on Mr. Kuryakin! He's like Superman!"

Gaby followed him with her eyes as he started to pace up and down.

„My men had to use all their tranquilizers to sedate him. Even though he lay on the floor he fought till he passed out. He is quite a beast. Mr. Solo on the other hand was down faster!"

Gaby breathed slowly out of her nose and let her gaze sweep through the warehouse.

„You might wonder where your partners are. Please turn around!" She turned slowly, dreading what she might would see.

There was another set of lights switched on.   
Gaby gasped as she took in the whole scene in front of her.   
There were two shaky boxes.   
To her utter shock Illya and Napoleon balanced on top of them.   
Their hands were tightly bound behind their backs and there was a rope around their necks.   
If they as much as lost their balance they would be hanged. 

They both looked awful.   
Bruises were forming on their skin.   
Napoleon had a swollen eye and a gash on his forehead.   
A small trail of blood was running down Illya's temple.   
His lip was split and a nasty bruise was forming on his jaw.   
His blue eyes widened in shock as he saw Gaby.

She whirled around to the man.   
He was grinning at her.

„Can you believe it. I captured the unbeatable men of UNCLE!" He looked very proud of himself and Gaby felt like she had to through up.

„Let them go!" She pressed out.

„Ah Miss Teller, not so demanding! There is always a price to be paid for things we want!"

„Gaby! Don't!" Illya gritted out.

She whirled to her partner, only to see one of the man's servants step next to Illya and shocking him.   
Illya stumbled, going to his knees.   
He nearly lost his balance.   
This made Solo groan and Gaby suddenly realized that both men had the same rope around their necks.   
So if Illya would loose his balance not only would he be hanged, but also Solo.

„You bastard! Tell him to stop!" Gaby couldn't hide her panic anymore. 

Solo stood on his toes to give Illya as much rope as he could and the Russian on the other hand tried to stand up, but another electric shock let him bend down.   
The goon grinned sadistically.

„Stop! Please! Tell me what you want!" Gaby cried out.

From the corner of her eye she could make out the man to make a sign.   
His goon stepped hesitantly away from Illya.  
The Russian slowly stood up and Solo could lower himself on his feet.  
Gaby could see how much strength it costed him.

„Tell me what you want from me!" She demanded never leaving her two partners out of her sight.

„I knew you would comply with me. I need you to come with me. I have someone who wants to meet you and he is really ….!"

She didn't hear him anymore.   
She tuned him out.   
Gaby looked at her partners.   
They would die if she would refuse.

Solo shook his head.   
The rope was cutting into his throat.

„I'll do it!" She whispers nearly inaudible, but in her ear it is as loud as a roar.

Illya's head snapped up.   
His blue eyes searching hers.   
She can see everything in them that he wants to tell her.   
He tells her that she hasn't to go.   
She can leave them and let them die.   
He doesn't mind.   
But she does.   
She knows he doesn't want her to go.   
They both know who wants her so desperately.   
They had suspected it now for a couple of weeks, but there had never been proof that he was still alive.

„Oh your uncle Rudy will be so pleased!" The man crooned.

Gaby shrugged together as he called out the name.   
Illya and Napoleon both had assured her that he was dead.   
They had seen it.

„Take them down and I will go with you without a fight!" The little mechanic said it like she was a robot.

All her feelings had left her.   
She just wanted her partners to touch the ground and she wanted to be sure that they lived.

Illya stared at her the whole time.   
He pleaded with her not to do it.   
Not for him.   
He loved her more than that.   
That reckless Russian put her life over his.   
How stupid of him not to think that she would do the same for him, she thought bitter.  
Gaby tried to ignore Illya and the rope, which cut deep into his skin.  
Finally she looked down.

„You know sweetheart, I don't need your permission to take you with me." The man touched her shoulder and took her hair in his hand. „ I only ordered you here to see your partners die and make sure you understand that there will be none to save you!" Gaby looked up, feeling like someone just pulled a rug under her feet away.

She stared at him wide eyed.   
Not able to move her body.

Then everything happened so fast and Gaby felt like she was watching the whole thing from somewhere else.   
Two goons were stepping behind Illya and Napoleon and kicked the boxes away.

The two agents fell.

Gaby heard herself scream and she was lurching forward, but there was a muscular arm snaking around her body, pulling her back.   
She knew, she couldn't fight.   
She tried though.   
Hard.   
She bit, hit and tried to free herself.   
She was still weak from the poison and her broken arm was no help either.   
The thug carried her away like a doll.   
She couldn't see.   
Her vision was blurry and she realized that she was crying.   
The thug threw her into a car, but Gaby launched at him again that's when he grabbed her and slammed her head into something.

Darkness descended.


	7. Family reunion

Her hearing came back first. There was water dripping somewhere and the floor she lay on was cold. Her head hurt like someone had split it in two. Carefully she turned herself on her back. Chains rustled as she moved and she felt handcuffs digging painfully into her right wrist.

Slowly Gaby opened her eyes. It was almost dark, but from somewhere was light coming into the room just enough to let her make out the ceiling above her. It was cracked and naked concrete. Little stones dug into her fingers.

„I'm sorry it had come to this!" The voice let ice cold fear run down her back and Gaby closed her eyes.

She hoped it was just a nightmare and she was still in the warm hotel room with her feet tugged under Illya's thigh and the Russian playing chess. She imagined his hand reaching out to sooth her, crooning that everything was just a nightmare and she was save.

She wasn't.

Gaby heard her uncle shift, but she kept her eyes on the ceiling as if it was something to marvel about.

„Gaby?" His voice commanding her to look at him, but she couldn't.

Right now hot anger boiled up inside of her. He let them be killed. Her friends. The only ones she had for a while.

„Ich lass dich noch etwas ausruhen! Wir reden später" (I let you rest for a little while. We'll talk later)

She heard him get up and as he walked out the little stones under his shoes crunched.

„You let them be killed!" She blurted out and her uncle stopped in the doorframe, looking back at his niece laying on the cold floor.

Annoyed he frowned, why did she use that filthy language?

„Nicht ganz korrekt, meine Liebe. Markus hat sie getötet und ich stimme dir zu es ist eine Schande. Er hätte sie mir bringen sollen. Wir haben noch eine Rechnung offen!" (Not quite my love. Markus killed them and it is a pity. He should have brought them to me. I had so many plans with them)

Gaby heard her uncle leave. Hot tears rolled over her cheeks as she thought about her partners hanging in an abandoned warehouse somewhere in Paris. None would know about it. Waverly would be left clueless about their whereabouts and sometime maybe someone would find the two agents. And her?

She starred at the cracked ceiling, remembering a night couple of weeks ago.

„What will happen to me if I die on a mission Illya?" She had asked one night after a dreadful mission.

They had barely walked away and she still could feel the bullets whistle past her. The scene had been so fresh in her mind and she still felt the hand of the man, who had pulled her under water, on her ankle. He had come out of nowhere during the fight. She remembered that she just brought one of their attackers down. Illya had two huge brutes on his hand and Solo had disappeared in another room. Suddenly his fingers had wrapped around her ankle like steel. The force of his pull had been so strong that she had smacked into the concrete floor and for a second had only seen stars. Gaby had lost hold of her gun and it clattered to the floor. Before she could grab it again the man had pulled her with him under water.

Even now she could taste the panic on her tongue as the water closed over her head and they sunk down. It didn't matter how hard she had kicked him, he wouldn't let go. She had no idea if he was conscious. The light from the surface shrunk into the distance as they sank further away. Finally she had pried his fingers away from her ankle and she violently kicked her legs to resurface. Her heavy combat shoes nor the clothes she wore that night were of help. The light seemed unreachable. Even though dark spots started to dance in her vision, her lungs screaming for air and her limbs felt like she was swimming through jelly, she fought on. Until her vision grew dark.

Now laying in bed Gaby could remember her last thought before she had lost consciousness.

What will happen if I die on a mission?

What if none knew where she was?

Neither Illya nor Solo had seen her go under water. They could assume that she had gone in another room. Her body might never resurface. Would they just leave her there? Leaving her body to rot?

„Illya? What would happen if I die on a mission?" She had asked again not sure if he had heard her.

His arm around her had tightened. She had felt his heart pound against her back and his warm breath caress her skin. Gaby had turned around even though it had been very difficult as the Russian's arm was tightly around her. Careful she touched his cheek.

The little mechanic couldn't remember when they had started to sleep in the same bed and when she had found the excuse to snuggle up to him or him to let her. But it was like it never had been any different. It felt secure and safe. It let her sleep and let her forget the missions.

But not this one.

In the darkness of their bedroom she had blurted out the question, because she needed to know.

„I would never let that happen!" The Russian rumbled and she could feel the vibration of his voice through his body.

„You can't always save me!" She had huffed and frowned at him even though he didn't see it in the dark.

„I won't let it happen Gaby!" He said it again like there was nothing she could do against it. He would probably die trying to save her.

„Illya" She had sighed, ready to explain to him that he wouldn't be there all the time or that one time he wasn't on time.

„No!" It was sharp and she knew he didn't want to hear her say otherwise.

„Fine, just let me pretend okay? I need to know Illya!" He was silent, but he was listening.

Gaby had come to herself laying on the wet concrete dock and Illya yelling at her to breathe, while he reanimated her. She had puked out loads of water and turned on her side coughing out the rest of it. The relief washing over his face was still now sharp in her brain. Solo had told her later that the Russian had dived after her even though he had been shot. When they had arrived back at the hotel he needed the help of Solo to walk to their room.

Gaby had swallowed hard before she continued. The Russian putting her well being over his, was everytime a marvel to her.

„If you wouldn't have found me … in the water today" She ignored his tightening grip. „If I drowned today…. What would have happen with me?" Her voice was quiet.

The silence stretched on.

„We would bring you home!" He whispered almost inaudible.

She snuggled closer to him.

„If I would die, I would like to be buried in the little cemetery we walked past last weekend!" Gaby told him.

„I won't let that happen to you ever." He had whispered into the dark, burring his nose into her hair.

* * *

The door to her cell got slammed open and let Gaby snap back to the harsh reality. Two masked, uniformed men stepped into the room. The taller one barked something at her. She couldn't understand him. It wasn't Russian nor English or German.

The little mechanic tried to get up, but her body was still sluggish. The taller one pulled her to her feet. The chains clanked and she swayed on her feet. The other man took her other arm. Her head was spinning and pain jolted through her head. To her dismay she couldn't even walk properly, but the two men didn't care and dragged her along. Somewhere on the way she lost her left shoe. Illya had been right, she thought bitterly. Women would lose easily their shoes.

She couldn't recall were they had been walking through, but they finally entered a room and the two brutes threw her on a wooden chair. Her head lolled to the side. She wanted to sit up. The men grabbed her arms roughly, but Gaby tried to free herself. One of them punched her and her head snapped to the side. She tasted blood in her mouth. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes and she blinked them away dazed. The taller one yanked her head back by her hair.

„Be a nice girl or you wish you were never born!" He spat with a weird accent she had never heard.

Gaby glared at him, but knew better as to fight. She wanted to tell him that Illya would make ground beef out of him, but the thought about the tall Russian drove a dagger through her heart and let tears well up in her eyes.

„It is really important Gaby to choose your fights!" Solo had once told her. „Sometimes we have to control our temper and swallow a comment down just to regain our strength to fight back!" She had huffed at him, but now she understood all too well.

So she watched them secure her arms to the armrest. They even cut away her cast.

„Your uncle is looking forward to see you!" The tall man whispered into her ear and before she could snap at him they left her.

The little mechanic tested the clasps around her wrist and arms, but they were tight and wouldn't bulge.

She wasn't a fool.

She knew what her uncle would do to her when he came back. She knew what he loved to do. When she had heard about Solo after their first mission, she hadn't asked him about it. She had read the report. She had wanted to know.

There were voices in the hallway and Gaby straightened in her chair.

He was coming.


	8. A call and promises

Somewhere in London was the European headquarters of UNCLE.   
It was well hidden and protected.   
Alexander Waverly had here his office and he loved it.  
The dark furniture was exclusive and really nice.   
Not to talk about the view he had from his windows.  
Besides all of that was the never ending storage of his favorite and rare Brandy.  
Right now Alexander Waverly sat in his desk chair and starred at the amber liquid in his glass.  
He was deep in thoughts.

His most valuable team hadn't checked in for days with him.   
It was highly unusual for them.  
There was always someone, who called him.   
Most of the time it was Solo.  
The American had a sense of duty to him and if Solo was injured the tall Russian would call.  
Gaby rarely did.  
The last time he had heard of them was when Solo had requested a nurse for Gaby.  
Since then nothing.

He knew in his guts that something was off.  
Yesterday he had sent another team to Paris to investigate.   
They were suppose to check in with him any minute now.  
He dreaded the call.   
The thought that something had happened to his favorite team filled him with fear.

The ringing of the phone cut through the silence.  
He starred at the red phone and picked it up.

„Olson speak!" He said clipped and took a zip from his brandy.

„Sir?" The high pitched voice of his secretary let him put down his tumbler hard.

„Rebeca? Can you put Olsen through?!" He asked patiently even though he didn't feel like it on the inside. She should know better as to hold up this call.

„Sir, there is a small problem. Olsen didn't call…" He closed his eyes briefly. „I mean… he called, but he just left a message that they found nothing in the hotel room. It looked like they left in a hurry and… and they would investigate the surroundings as you have requested"

Waverly listened to her while he drummed his fingers on the polished desk impatiently.  
He knew there was more coming.

„I just got a call from a Mr. Sanders… he wants me to put him through to you… he is from the Parisienne newspaper…Sir I'm not sure what he wants from you…" Rebeca sounded flustered.

Waverly sighed heavily.  
He never thought it would come to this.

„Put him through!" He closed his eyes and listened to the connection sound.

* * *

Gaby never had liked her uncle even though she was supposed to be his favorite niece.   
As a child she always liked to make a wide perch around her uncle.   
Deep in her guts she had sensed the evil inside of him.   
Now as he was sitting in front of her on a turned around chair, his arms laying casually on the backrest, the old feelings stirred up.   
Gaby looked at him coldly.

"You are not allowed to touch me. You promised my father!" She hissed.

The slap in her face let her head snap to the side and she felt her lip split.   
The warm blood ran down her chin, dripping on her dress.

"Hör auf diese schreckliche Sprache zu verwenden!" (Stop using that filthy language!)

He took out a napkin and dabbed away the blood from her chin.   
Gaby moved her head away, but it didn't do any good.

"Ich habe es deinem Vater versprochen. Ich wusste, dass du zugehört hattest, aber ganz ehrlich Gabriella. Ich habe deinem Vater nur versprochen, dass …"  
(Yes, I promised your father. I knew that you were listening, but to be honest Gabriella. I only promised your father that…)

He brushed a strand of her hair back and Gaby shrank back involuntarily.

"Dein Vater sagte: "Nicht über meine Leiche, Rudy! Du fasst sie nicht an solange ich am Leben bin!" Ich glaube, dass er dachte, dass ich vor ihm ins Gras beiße. Doch hier sind wir kleine Gaby. Nur du und ich! Das hätte dein Vater nicht gedacht und um ganz ehrlich mit dir zu sein. Ich habe mir schon lange die Dinge ausgemalt, die ich mit dir anstellen werde!"  
(Your father said "Not over my dead body, Rudy! Don't you dare touching her while I'm still alive!" I believe that he thought I would die way before him. But look at us now little Gaby. It's just you and I left! Your father never thought this would happen and to be honest with you I dreamt a long time about the things I would do to you!)

He smiled at her and Gaby felt like puking.   
Her uncle got up and turned to a table she hadn't paid attention before.   
Slowly she breathed out her nose, trying to calm her speeding up heart.

"Ich denke es ist an der Zeit zu beginnen, findest du nicht auch meine Liebe?" (I think it's about time to start, don't you think my love?)

* * *

"How do you do it, Solo?" She had asked her American partner on a long haul flight. 

Gaby had waited until she was certain that Illya had fallen asleep.   
He had suffered a bad concussion and was ordered to take it easy.   
He had told her he was fine.   
Of course he was.   
He always was.   
So it had taken him a while to fall asleep.   
With his head in her lap she had let her fingers ran through his soft hair and had drawn circles on his forehead.

Solo had looked at her. 

"What do you do if you get tortured?" She had asked again, looking up from Illya, who looked so peaceful asleep.

"Gaby" Solo had sighed and she had cut him off. "No Solo! He's asleep. You can tell me and don't say Illya will never allow it to happen to me… I'm not stupid. Eventually I will be in that situation and I want to know what you do if you…" She had swallowed hard, having in the back of her mind the report she had read about Solo and the encounter with her uncle.

He had looked at her long and his eyes drifted to the sleeping Russian. "If he knows what I tell you, he will kill me!" The American put away his magazine.

"Please Solo, I need to know!" She had pleaded and trailed the bruise on Illya's temple. She had heard Napoleon sigh.

"I try to shut everything out and leave to a different place in my mind. It works for me!" She had looked up and watched Solo looking out the window. "Promise me something Gaby", he had looked at her and his eyes were dark, "if they take you and torture you, give them what they want. Give them enough to keep you alive. I promise you we will find you. Just stay alive, don't be cocky with them" She had rolled her eyes at him, but his gaze was intense and she had known that Solo wasn't playing. Not this time.

"Promise me, you do everything to stay alive. I don't want to experience Peril in a world without you, where he has lost you!" He had said the last worlds so quiet she hadn't been sure if she had understood him correctly. Illya had made a noise in his dream and Gaby had soothed him immediately.

"I promise!" She had smiled, but she hadn't been sure if she could if it meant to protect her friends.

* * *

As Gaby watched her uncle select the best tool for her, she thought bitterly that there was none to safe her.   
Not anymore.  
The little mechanic didn't know if Waverly would sacrifice one of his other teams for her.   
For all she knew, she was just an ordinary woman he had found in a repair shop and that had the right connection at that moment.  
She had proven herself a couple of times. She was always a good honeypot and lured every mark in they had.   
Nothing worth recovering.  
Her uncle turned towards her a sick smile on his lips.

"Sehen wir mal wie viel es braucht bis du mir die Bude zusammen schreist!" (Let's see if I can make you scream today!)

Gaby felt her legs shake, but she stubbornly set her jaw and glared at her uncle.   
It would be the last thing she would do to show him how afraid she truly was.

* * *

Waverly walked fast through the streets of London.   
A light rain had descended over the city as he had left the office.   
He pulled his hat deep into his face and luckily his coat was rain proofed.

Sanders had been clipped on the phone. "Meet me in 15 minutes at Harry's café!"   
Waverly had no chance to ask something back as Sanders already had hung up on him.   
So he had rushed out of his office and left his secretary stunned behind her desk.   
Only telling her to cancel any appointments or meetings he had this morning.

Finally the café came into view.   
He stopped.   
Maybe, he thought later, his own agent training kicked into gear.   
It was stupid to walk into a café not knowing who he was actually going to meet.  
He should call someone from the agency to tell them where he was.  
Just then someone grabbed him and pulled him into a side alley.   
His attacker blocked his attempt to free himself.   
The attacker slammed him hard against the brick wall of one of the houses.   
The hit knocked the air out of his lungs and before he knew it a blade was pressed against his throat. 

"Don't move! You don't want to splatter your fine clothes with your blood, do you?" He didn't know if it was the threat or the voice, which let him freeze right there.


	9. Dreadful mistakes

Gaby didn't know how many times she had passed out since her uncle had started.  
As her eyelids fluttered open once again she didn't know where she was for a bliss second.   
Until pain hit her.   
Every inch of her body hurt.   
She tried to lean forward, but the belt around her chest held her in place.   
Her sight was blurry and she had difficulties to focus.   
There was light and people talking and… she blinked again and finally a person came into view.   
Her uncle sat in front of her like every time she came to herself.   
He waited always patiently for her to wake up.   
He would make a note into his notebook and continue his work.  
Her ears rang with her own screaming.   
She groaned and let her head fall back against the backrest.

"Wh-why are… you doing this?" She asked, her voice hoarse from all the screaming. 

Tiredly she closed her eyes.  
His answer was an electric jolt.

"Wie viele Male habe ich dir schon gesagt, dass du nicht diese Sprache verwenden solltest?"  
(How many times did I tell you to stop using this filthy language?)

Rudy asked angrily.

"Было бы вам приятно, если бы я говорил по-русски?"   
(Would it please you if I spoke Russian?) 

She smiled at him wickedly.   
Gaby wasn't quite sure if she had said it correctly.   
Maybe Illya would roll his eyes at her for not using the right words or pronunciation.   
Solo would certainly be angry with her, because she was taunting her uncle.

Rudy starred at his niece.   
A vein pulsing on his forehead and his face was slowly turning red.   
Before she knew his hand closed around her throat and he was squeezing her air pipe shut.  
Like a fish she opened and closed her mouth, trying to breathe.   
She strained against her shackles, curling her fingers.   
Her survival instinct had kicked in and she wanted to get his hands off of her.   
Dark spots started to dance in her vision when her uncle stepped away and yelled something at his men.   
Gaby coughed and desperately sucked in sweet air.  
Two men freed her from her chair and dragged her over to an open space.   
They tied her hands above her head to a hook and pulled her up.   
So far she hardly could stand on her toes.   
As she tried to gain balance on her toes her uncle stepped close to her.   
She could feel his warm, foul breath on her face.   
He squeezed her cheeks gently together, drawing her gaze towards him.

"Was hat der Drecksrusse dir sonst noch beigebracht?"  
(What else did you learn from that commie pig?)

He yelled, his fingers were digging into her cheeks certainly leaving bruises.  
She raised an eyebrow at him.   
She could hear Solo in her head. "Don't do this Gaby! He will kill you!"   
At least this would be over.  
Maybe he would make it quick if he was enraged.

"I'm sorry Solo!" She thought and as she looked at her uncle a fire raged in her eyes.

"Was denkst du?"   
(What do you think?)

Rudy looked at her and his hand dropped as if she was all of a sudden burning hot.

"Sag bloss nicht, dass du mit dem Hurensohn geschlafen hast!"   
(Don't tell me you let that pig fuck you!)

His voice was collected and calm, but she could see his left hand shaking.

"Oh, das habe ich und zwar jeden Tag. Ich habe es geliebt. Vor allem wenn er Russisch in mein Ohr geflüstert hat!"   
(Oh, I did. Every day. And I loved it. Especially when he whispered sweet words in Russian into my ear!)

She lied and smiled at her uncle, who just stared at her, unblinking.

"Es ist wirklich eine Schande, dass er tot ist, nicht wahr meine Liebe?"  
(It's really a tragedy that he died, don't you think my love?)

He pressed out, hardly controlling his voice.

"Erik! Bring es mir!"  
(Erik! Get it!)

He yelled, but his eyes never left Gaby.  
She watched one of his lackeys leave.  
Now he would kill her.  
Gaby swallowed hard.

"Ich hab dich immer gemocht, doch dass du dich …"  
(I always liked you dearly, but that you…)

He shook his head, grabbing something from his table.   
He let part of it fall to the ground and Gaby recognized it as a whip.

Erik returned out of breath.   
He gave her uncle a folder and then continued to install a camera just a few steps in front of Gaby.   
She looked at it puzzled.

"Ich hoffe, dass du nichts dagegen hast!"   
(I hope you don't mind)

Rudy said, while he fumbled with some papers.

"Ah, da ist es ja!"   
(Ah, here it is)

He chuckled and stepped in front of her, obscuring her view to Erik.  
Her uncle held a surveillance picture in his hands.  
Her world came to a skidding halt.   
She felt like her heart just stopped in her chest.   
Her head snapped up to her uncle, who looked at her with a mocking smile and disgust in his eyes.  
What had she done?

Gabriella Teller would have recognized Illya everywhere.   
Even now in that blurry picture with a beard was no doubt in her mind that it wasn't him.  
Her uncle leaned down and whispered in her ear. 

"Sei ein braves Mädchen und stell dich der Kamera vor. Ich möchte, dass kein Irrtum besteht wer zu sehen ist und wenn du das gut machst, werde ich ihn schnell töten!"  
(Be a nice girl and introduce yourself to the camera. I don't want them to be confused on who is in front of it. If you do a good job I promise, I will kill him quickly!)

He patted her cheek and brushed a hair strand behind her ear.  
This was not suppose to happen.  
She balled her fist, where she could feel the ring.  
Her uncle stepped away from her and Erik told her to start.  
"Try to stay alive, Gaby! Promise me!" She heard Solo in her thoughts.  
The little mechanic tried to straighten, which was really hard to do on the tip of her toes.

"My name is Gabriella Teller. I'm of no importance to anyone and there is ….!"

"Das reicht!" (Enough!)

Her uncle cut her off and told Erik to check the position of the camera before he bent down to Gaby.

„Das war ganz okey meine Liebe!" (That was alright, my love)

His finger trailed down on the side of her cheek, while she stared at the camera.

„Ich möchte nicht, dass der Russe dies hier verpasst! Ich möchte, dass er alles sieht!"  
(I don't want your Russian friend to miss out all the fun I have with you. I want him to see every thing!)

Gaby swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to raise.   
She knew Illya would blame himself with or without the video.

Her uncle turned to the camera.

„This is all your fault my Russian friend! You filthy bastard leave me no choice, but to wash my niece clear from your commie hands!" Her uncle spat towards the camera.

He turned then and grabbed his whip.   
A smile played across his lips as he riled back the whip and let it hit his niece.   
This was going to be fun.


	10. A tale to tell

Waverly gaped at the man in front of him.   
He looked different.   
Maybe it was because of the beard.   
He had never seen him have one or maybe it was the clothes?

"You can let him go now, Peril!" A voice commanded out of the shadows.

"He could have brought someone!" The Russian snarled, glowering at his boss.

"Why don't we go inside and if you feel like it you can get it out of him?" Napoleon reasoned and finally Illya stepped away from Waverly, who let out a breath he wasn't aware of holding.

Waverly straitened his coat and followed Solo down the alley to a mostly hidden door.

"I'm sorry about Illya. He is a little on edge these days!" Solo apologized and waved Waverly through the door.

The door led right into an abandoned or closed café.   
It could have been either one or his agents had closed it for the day.   
Waverly looked at them warily as he sat down at a table.   
From here he could look out the big windows onto the rainy streets of London.  
Illya sat on the other side of the table, glaring at him and for the first time his gaze made him squirm.   
Solo had disappeared and was preparing some coffee, because they needed it now.  
What had happened in Paris?  
It felt like an eternity before Solo finally appeared with a tray.

"What happened?" Waverly couldn't hold back. "I haven't heard of you for days. I sent a team down there to look for you!"

Solo placed calmly the cups in front of everyone.  
Waverly took his cup and stirred some sugar in.

"Where is agent Teller? Is she alright?" Solo froze and Waverly immediately knew he had made a mistake.

Illya's gaze turned to ice and Waverly noticed his tapping got faster.

"Illya! Calm down! We have a deal!" Solo murmured and the Russian looked at his partner.

There was a quiet exchange between the two men and Waverly felt like he was interrupting something.

"Да!" It was all the Russian finally could say.

Solo let himself sink on the chair next to his partner.   
Waverly took carefully a zip from his coffee.   
Damn, that American could be a barista.  
He looked at his agents.   
They looked different.   
He noticed an angry red mark around their necks and in Illya's eyes raged a storm he didn't want to see unleashed.   
Something must have happened to Gaby.

„Can someone please tell me, what happened?"

Solo starred at his coffee and destroyed the cream artwork before he told his boss the whole story.

* * *

Three days ago

It had been all his fault.  
Solo still blamed himself for this.  
He had let his mind slip as he had walked back to the hotel.   
In his hand a bag with food for Peril and Gaby.   
He didn't think the Russian would leave the hotel today and besides Illya had tried everything on the menu card of the hotel.   
The only warning had been a sting before two brutes shoved him into a side street. He had tried to fight them off, but he had started losing control over his body as the serum, they had injected him, had started to work.  
He remembered the food bag falling to the ground and one of them kicked it away before darkness had descended on him.

Solo had come to himself with his hands tied behind his back, laying in the back of a car.   
There was something laying beside him.  
One whiff of the familiar cologne let his heart freeze right there.

"Peril?" He had asked into the dark.

There was a grunt.

"How did they get to you?" He asked shocked.

"You… they called and told me to come or they will kill you…they got you on the phone… you were drugged!" Illya had slurred his accent heavy and Solo had known that his friend had still the drugs in his system. He dimly remembered a man pulling him on his hair and him telling Peril not to come.

"Where's Gaby?"

"Hotel room… she slept when I left" Illya murmured sounding like he was on the edge of losing consciousness again.

There had been no time for other questions anyway, because the car had stopped.  
He had pretended to be still out and as their captures had carried them to the new location, he could overhear them talking how they had gotten Illya.   
Apparently they had needed all their tranquilizer to sedate the Russian.

„Damn! He almost took us all out, I swear to you Carl!" A voice huffed.

„A miracle that monster is not dead. He sleeps like a baby!" Had answered Carl, kicking the Russian into his side.

„I hope he's awake, when we hang them!" Solo had gotten dumped to the ground, hitting his head on the concrete floor.

„Think the girl will come?"

„She will or we get her! But I heard they were quite close… so she won't risk it!"

„How can they work with a Russian pig?!" The other spat disgusted and it had taken everything inside of Solo not to speak up for his friend.

The two men had left them and finally Napoleon had dared to open his eyes.   
They were in a big warehouse and in the gloom he could see two boxes and a rope hanging from the high ceiling.   
Their execution place.  
This was bad.

He had tried to free himself, but whoever had tied him up, had known what he had been doing.  
Illya beside him had stirred awake and Solo had quickly filled him in.

„Do you trust me Cowboy?" That was the only thing he had grumbled after Solo had finished his report.

„Of course!" The American had replied, not really sure what his partner would do next.

„Good!" The Russian had nodded and there was nothing else.

* * *

„It was not your fault!" Peril grumbled as Solo paused his story to think how he should continue.

He had promised Illya not to tell anyone how they had gotten free.   
He would keep his word.  
Solo looked at his partner.   
The storm in the Russian's eyes raged on and Solo knew they had to find Gaby before it broke out.

„So what did you do Illya?" Waverly's voice let the two agents snap back to reality.

He looked at his Russian agent.   
Illya stared back.

„It's KGB secret! Not allowed to tell!" His voice was like steal and Waverly didn't dare to ask more questions.

„Okey, whatever you two did, I'm glad you are alive!" He gave them a shaky smile.

Solo returned the smile halfhearted and stirred in his coffee.  
Waverly looked at them nervously and fidget with his tie.

„I know it's upsetting you Kuryakin, but what happened to Gaby?" Waverly swallowed hard.

If he had thought Illya's stare couldn't get more icy, he had been wrong.

„Peril, why don't you go outside and check the premises?" Solo said casually.

It would be better if the Russian was out of the room, when he told the story about Gaby and how they got here.  
No need to rub it in the Russian's face how he couldn't protect her and how he had lost her trail.

Illya nodded once and got up.

Solo waited until his partner was out the door before he turned his attention once again towards his boss.

The fear and the panic in her hazel eyes haunted him every day since he had seen her been dragged out of the warehouse by that brute.   
Illya still could hear her screams in his head.   
He woke up at night drenched after another nightmare.   
He lost her every time.   
Nothing could drive those nightmares away.   
Solo knew, but didn't say anything.   
Just sometimes when the beast tried to get out he murmured „We get her back! You have to focus!"

It was hard to focus.

It brought him right back to Gaby and how her eyes had widened when she had seen them standing on those boxes.   
Her fear for them, the panic and the exhaustion all mixed in her eyes and clearly for him to see.   
Only for him.   
Because he knew her better than anyone.  
Just hours before she had collapsed on him again and now, finally feeling a little better, she tried to rescue them.   
He wanted to yell at her that he had a plan.   
Everything would be fine, but he couldn't.   
Not if he didn't want to expose his plan.  
The worst was that Gaby believed he was dead.  
She had to.  
The only people she cared about were dead.   
Solo didn't need to tell him that this was bad.   
They had to find her as fast as they could.  
He still couldn't believe that uncle Rudy was alive.   
Illya had seen him go all Smokey pokey, but still that bastard had survived.   
And he had Gaby.


	11. The end is near

They had found her sitting on the couch with a vodka bottle almost empty and a loaded gun in her hands.   
She had pointed that thing at them.   
He remembered not being afraid that she would shoot them but for her possibly hurting herself.   
She had lowered the weapon as she realized it was them and took another zip from the bottle.   
Solo had glanced at him.   
They had left her back in the hotel room while they had been looking into some hints to check.   
She had been sleeping, exhausted from the day and both of them had thought she would still be asleep.   
They had been wrong.

„Gaby darling, why don't you give me the gun?!" Solo had walked up to her like she was a frightened animal.

She had looked at the gun, surprised that she had it and gave it to the American.  
Illya had taken the bottle with the excuse they needed a drink.   
She had released the bottle when he promised her another glass.

„Someone called while you were gone!" She slurred and Illya had whirled around.

Solo had rubbed her back.   
Probably trying to soothe her and looked at him.

„Let her talk!" said his eyes and Illya had fixed their drinks and gave his partners theirs before he had sat in the armchair close to Gaby.

„I didn't know the voice….but it was a man and….he said…he said" Her breathing had picked up then and Solo had murmured soothing words, while Illya had felt the rage bubbling up.

„He said…do you miss your uncle….because I can bring you to him…I'm pretty sure he wants to see you too!" Her eyes had been huge with fear as she had looked at him. „He is dead, isn't he?" She had asked in a timid voice and he had only been able to nod once before Solo had told her once again the story of uncle Rudy's death.

He had known then that Gaby hadn't told them the whole story of the call and he had been certain that the caller had said more, but he didn't want to probe her about it.  
After Solo had told the story Gaby had calmed down and eventually fell asleep.   
Solo had excused himself and Illya had picked up the small German woman and carried her to bed.

„Your sure he is dead?" She had asked him as he had laid down next to her.

„Yes, if he had been alive Waverly's men would have taken him!" He had rumbled and had pulled her closer.

„I'm glad he is gone. He was a bad man!" She had whispered into the dark.

That night she had had many nightmares.

* * *

Illya lashed out and rammed his fist into one of the containers.   
The pain in his knuckles let him snap back and exhausted he let himself slide down the cold brick wall.   
The cold air and the rain on his skin let the storm calm for a little bit and allowing him to focus.   
Solo had made it clear to him that if he lost it like so many times before, he wouldn't be part of the search party.

„You know Waverly will come up with your temper and use it as an excuse to leave you out. If it is not Waverly there will be someone else. So you have to control it!"

Illya understood and took calming breaths to force the monster inside of him down.  
Just then Solo opened the door.

„We are heading to headquarters!"

* * *

Gaby had stared at the camera, trying to tell Illya – who hopefully never would get his hands on the footage – that she was strong and this was nothing.   
She had heard the whip getting drawn back and had closed her eyes to let her mind escape to her safe place.

The little mechanic hadn't need to think long where she would let her mind escape. Her choice had fallen on Canada.   
The blissful week they had spent in a small cottage in one of the Provincial parks. She could still remember the drive up there.   
All the trees in full Indian summer had captured her the whole drive up there and she hadn't complained once about Solo not letting her drive.   
They had arrived after sundown and she had fallen asleep.   
Too exhausted to keep her eyes open.   
She had fought with sleep, because she had felt Solo's eyes on her every now and then, checking if she already had fallen asleep.   
She wasn't dumb.   
She knew the boys liked to talk when she was asleep.   
Gaby still wondered how they did it to stay so fully alert after a hard mission.

Long after the sun had gone, they had found the cabin.   
A beautiful masterpiece of a house just at the border of a small lake.  
Gaby had woken up and had blinked against the sudden light from the porch.   
Illya had ignored her attempts to walk on her own.

„Sleep little chop shop girl!" He had rumbled his accent thick and it washed like a lullaby over her.

Carefully he had picked her up.   
She had watched him through her lashes.   
She had made a map from his face as he carried her over a small path to the cabin and up a flight of stairs.  
Gaby had clung to him when he had put her down.   
One side of her wanted him to sleep in the bed beside her.   
Illya was her shield against the cruel nightmares, which were hunting her every night.   
If he was around, she could finally sleep soundly.   
It was also the reason she had so many times fallen asleep on the couch while he had played chess.   
Mere inches away from her.  
Illya had pried her fingers away.

„Not now Gaby! Good night!" He had murmured.

She had growled at that, but he was just stronger than her and soon he had slipped out of the room, leaving her thinking that maybe she had misinterpreted his actions towards her.   
The times he had touched her absentmindedly, the always standing too close, his gaze following her everywhere she went, the protests he made when he thought a job was too dangerous for her, the looking out for her when they were on a mission, the death stare he gave any guy, which came too close to her and so many signs she had thought showed he cared more for her.   
She remembered the icy dread spreading inside of her body as she had realized she might had misinterpreted him.   
He just saw her like a sister.   
A little sister he needed to take care of.   
As those thoughts came back up Gaby got catapulted into the painful reality of her uncle's torture chamber.

Warm blood ran down her body and a puddle had already formed beneath her feet. Her uncle was visibly enjoying himself.  
Desperately she tried to get back to her safe place, but the pain kept her anchored to the room.  
Uncle Rudy leaned down to her.   
Very close to her ear and he whispered.

„Let's end the whole thing, won't we?!" Gaby was only capable to stare at him.

She could feel the strain on her arm and was sure she had broken it again.  
The last thing she saw was the face of her uncle smeared with her blood.   
Gaby hoped that Illya and Solo were okey.   
She just prayed for that.


	12. A pact fails

Solo watched every movement of his Russian friend over the newspaper in his hand.   
Or better the lack of it.   
As Illya hadn't moved since they had boarded the train.   
He starred into the distance as the scenery flashed by.   
Not really focusing on anything.

The tip had come in just this morning.   
Jerking Peril out of his sleep.   
Solo had swore under his breath at the young agent, who brought them the news.  
Peril hadn't slept for days.   
Finally exhaustion had taken him and let him fall asleep on top of his desk.   
Haunched over it.   
On top of all the papers scattered over Illya's desk.   
Solo had sighed in relief.   
Seeing his partner worked up like this and blaming himself hadn't been the most glorious days either for Solo.  
The news had brought a new spark into the Russian's eyes and after some mild protests he even ate and showered.

„You should try to sleep" Solo murmured behind his papers and immediately felt the scorching glare of Illya.

Everyone in the agency was afraid of his glare, but it didn't face the American.   
He knew the Russian wouldn't hurt him.

„Look Peril, I want you to be ready when we arrive. I need you 100%! She needs you 100%!" The mentioning of their German partner let Illya's eyes soften.

„I will wake you as soon as we are five minutes away from our station or do I have to use the same method you used on Gaby when she was as stubborn as you are right now?" He said while folding the newspaper and staring at his friend.

The comment let Illya's lips curve all too slightly into a smile as he thought of it.

„No!" He murmured and leaned his head against the cool window.

He would close his eyes for Solo's sake.   
Illya wasn't tired.   
He could sleep, when he had rescued the little mechanic.

Solo shook his head as he watched the Russian closing his eyes.   
He knew he was just closing his eyes because of him, but soon his breathing grew deeper and the American knew his friend didn't just pretend, but truly fell asleep.  
Those two were so stubborn.

* * *

„You should sleep!" Illya had murmured as he glanced at the little mechanic sitting next to him in the car.

She had rolled her eyes at him.

„We are on an observation job and I'm not sleeping now! I will in the hotel!" She whispered back, raising the binoculars and watching the building they had watched for the last couple of days.

„You are exhausted!" Illya had pressed on.

„Thank you for informing me. But I am not!" She had shot back, not even lowering the binoculars.

„Well, I have to take on sides with the Russian this time, but you look exhausted and you need to sleep. We wake you as soon as we…"

„Really Solo? Your siding now with the Russian?" She had spit. Clearly in a foal mood. „I'm fine!" She had turned in her seat and had glared at him.

„Last time you nearly got killed!" Illya had gritted between his teeth.

She shrugged.

„Risk of the job" Illya glared at her, his jaw set and there was a muscle ticking.

„Why don't you grab us some coffee and muffins Illya" Solo had cut in to prevent the Russian to say something he would later regret.

The two men had exchanged glances through the rearview mirror.   
The tall Russian huffed and left the car as they both watched him stalk off to the nearest coffee shop.

„He is just concerned" Solo had tried to sooth her temper.

„What for? I am a good agent and that was just a stupid incident" She had huffed frustrated.

„He just likes to boss me around!" Gaby grumbled and Solo leaned back.

It was no use to change her mind.

15 minutes later Illya had returned with three steaming cups of coffee and muffins.   
Gaby had looked at the cups suspiciously.

„Take one" Illya said and let her pick one of the cups.

She drank greedily.   
Probably hoping the caffeine would keep her awake.   
Solo ate in silence his muffin.   
It was still warm and the cup would keep his coffee warm to drink later.  
Illya had taken the binoculars from Gaby and watched the compound.  
It was silent in the car.  
Just in time the Russian turned in his seat and snatched the cup out of Gaby's hand before the little mechanic tipped over.   
Gently he pushed her back, letting her head rest against the cold window.   
She was out.

„You better don't drink that cowboy!" Illya said casually while he made the German woman comfortable. 

Solo could see she was fast asleep.

„You spiked her coffee?" Solo asked with wide eyes.

„All of the coffee. I hope you didn't taste it yet!" Solo stared in horror at his cup in his hands.

„It wasn't enough to spike hers, was it?" He growled and stared at his partner.

„Would have made her suspicious!" The Russian shrugged and spread his jacket over the unconscious woman.

„She's going to kill you when she wakes up!" Solo murmured.

„She is no condition to storm a place. I told you I will never repeat that incident again! Besides Gaby doesn't need to know. We just say she fell asleep!" Solo shook his head in disbelief.

And they never told her.

* * *

Their contact waited nervously under the big railway station clock.   
The poor man had a huge mustache and an enormous belly.   
He reminded Solo of a walrus.   
Nervously he dapped his forehead with a handkerchief every other minute.   
He introduced himself as Bob and led the two agents to a car waiting for them.

„I'm so sorry for the circumstances we have to meet!" He bowed slightly before he turned to Solo. „I need a minute with you alone … Mr. Solo, isn't it?" Solo nodded slowly.

Illya glared at the poor man, who seemed to shrink even more.  
Solo pulled the man further away and signaled Illya to get into the car.

„What is it?" The American snarled as his heart started to beat faster.

The poor man in front of him wringed his handkerchief desperately in his hands and stared at his shoes as if they could answer for him.

„Your agent… we found her on the side of the road…." Bob stuttered.

„Did she speak to you?" Solo blurted out.

Knowing all to well she would only speak to him or Illya after such an ordeal.

„No…" The man continued his stare contest with his shoes.

„So she is in a coma or what? Let's go!" He wanted to brush past the man, but Bob held on to his arm.

„Mr. Solo! We found your agent on the side of the road and… she has been tortured in all the horrible ways men could offer… she… it would be a miracle to survive this…." Bob looked at him with sorrow in his eyes.

Solo blinked at him.   
Not understanding what he was trying to say to him.  
He didn't want to.

„We found her body …. and I pray to God that she had a swift death in the end!" Solo felt all the color drain out of his face and then his head snapped up to Illya, who had exited the car again. 

As soon as he saw Solo he stopped in his tracks.  
The two agents stared at each other.

„Mr. Solo I'm really sorry. You have my deepest condolences!" He heard Bob murmur as if he was far away.

„We want to see her!" Solo heard himself say before he freed himself from the man's grap and walked over to Illya.

Solo felt like he was underwater and in the back of his mind he wondered why Illya's monster wasn't free yet.

„We have failed her Illya!" He said flat with no emotions.

There was emptiness in his body.

„She's not dead!" The tall Russian said coldly starring at Bob, who ran over to them and quickly got into the car.

They failed her.  
The words kept repeating itself in Solo's head over and over again and his mind drifted to the night he had made a pact with Illya.

* * *

Solo had sat in the comfy armchair just opposite of the couch, where Illya sat and next to him was Gaby curled up with her head in his lap.   
There had been a huge bruise along her jaw and a cut on her temple.   
Solo's eyes had drifted to the Russian's knuckles, which were bruised as well from the impact he had hit the man responsible for all of this.

Gaby had stirred and it had made the huge Russian flinch.   
On any other day this would have made Solo laugh, but she was still on the drugs the men had given her and it made not only the Russian's blood boil.

The both had watched her sleep before Solo had dared to speak.   
Not louder than a whisper afraid he would wake her.

„We won't fail again Illya!" The Russian's blue eyes snapped to his partner and they agreed silently.

They made the pact and it didn't even require words.


	13. Sliver of hope

Solo had stood many times in a morgue before.  
Why should it make this time any different.   
He wondered.   
But he couldn't help but freeze as he saw the brown hair peaking out under the white sheet mated by blood.   
Her blood.

With all his strength he turned to Illya.  
The tall Russian walked up to the table, where their partner lay under a white sheet.   
Solo followed him on shaky legs.   
He didn't want to see her like that.  
He wanted to hold on to the hope to find her.  
To find her alive.  
To know he could tease her about Illya or any other thing.  
He wanted to see her laugh and annoy Peril.  
He wanted to see Peril glance at her full of love when he thought none would see.  
Solo wanted her to banter at Illya when he fussed over her.  
The doctor nodded at them and lifted the sheet.

Bruises in all sizes and shapes from dark purple to brown yellowish covered her body.   
Some were so detailed that they could make out a fingerprint or part of a shoe.   
There were also cuts and burns scattered across her body and her arm was clearly broken again.  
He wouldn't have recognized her.   
Her face looked swollen and her nose was broken for sure.

Solo had to turn around otherwise he thought he might gonna lose it.   
Anger boiled up inside of him towards the people that did that to her.   
To their partner.

„How do you know it is her?" He heard his partner's voice cut through the silence. His accent thick.

„Your Commander said something about a ring?" The doctor answered cooly and lifted her arm.

There in the light of the room glittered her ring she never put off.   
Solo hadn't seen her ever without it.   
He glanced at Illya, who starred at the ring.   
Unmoving.

„Can I have it? It is mine!" He said clearly without any emotion in his voice.

„Of course agent Kuryakin!" The doctor removed the ring with great effort and gave it to the Russian.

„Thank you!" Illya turned to his partner. „We have to go!" Without another word he walked to the exit, leaving Solo dumbfounded.

At the door the tall Russian turned to his partner and friend.

„What are you waiting for? Christmas?" His voice as cold as a blizzard.

Solo blinked irritated and hurried after his partner.

„What was that?" He asked when he finally caught up with Illya.

The Russian glanced at Solo a small smirk forming on his face.

„It is not her"

Solo stopped in his tracks.

„What? How? But the ring?!" He hurried to keep up with Peril. 

„Yes, the ring is very clever idea… But it fit Gaby perfectly and doctor had to struggle with pulling it off!"

„Her finger must be swollen or something!" Solo intercepted.

Illya turned around to face him.

„It is not her!" Solo could see the monster behind his eyes threatening to come out.

„What makes you think that?" He asked calmly.

Better to address it now as having Illya chase a ghost.   
Solo could see the Russian's finger twitch.

„She didn't look like Gaby and her hair was wrong!" The Russian started.

Solo looked at him with all his sympathy.   
This was going to be hard to convince Peril.

„She was tortured Illya… of course she doesn't look like the Gaby we knew…"

„Then that woman didn't have the cut" Illya continued, ignoring Solo's comment.

„What cut?"

„It is long story… I tell you in the car, but we have to go… and besides all that the ring was on the wrong hand!" Illya turned and walk in a brisk pace to the elevator.

„Wait… why the wrong hand?" Solo had to run to keep up with Illya and just reached him as the Russian entered the elevator to bring them away from this depressing place.

As the door shut closed Illya turned to him. „We have an understanding… Gaby and I" Solo rose an eyebrow. „An understanding?"

„дa… like a contract…"

„When did that happen?" Solo was baffled. 

The Russian shrugged and Solo couldn't help but notice that his partner looked quite smug about the whole thing.

„One of the points was that if Gaby gets ever taken she changes the ring to other hand…"

„That proves nothing… They could just put the ring on the wrong hand…" Solo could feel his anger boil to the surface. 

He had been always the calm and collected one of the trio, but Illya was pushing his boundaries today.  
God damnit they just had lost their partner and friend.  
Illya glared at his partner.   
Not happy about his reaction.

„I know that!" He snarled. „That's why I told you about the cut… none knows about it… and … I might have other tracker on her…"

Just in that moment the doors slid open and they emerged into the hospital wing.   
Busy with people.  
They remained silent until they reached their hotel.  
Methodically they searched the room for bugs.   
It had come natural to both of them.   
Even to Gaby.   
To first check their rooms for bugs.

„What do you mean… you might have another tracker on her?" Solo asked exhausted while he watched the Russian pull out another suitcase, which surely didn't have clothes in it.

„Remember the time she got mad at me?" Illya asked, looking over to his partner, who rubbed his neck while nodding.

How could he ever forget that night?!

„I realized then that the ring could get lost or thrown away… so I put another tracker on her"

„Does she know?"

„I'm not suicidal…. It is sleeping until I need it… like now!" The Russian glanced down at his workstation to wake the tracker on Gaby.

„So are you gonna tell me the story about the cut?" Solo asked as he stood up and walked over to the liquor cabinet.   
He needed a drink.

* * *

Waverly had sent Solo onto a solo mission.   
Gaby had snickered about that word play the whole time they had driven back to the safe house.   
Waverly had made them stay there until Solo would return and Illya hadn't mind to be locked up with the small German woman.  
Besides there was not much he could do as his wounds from a previous mission still needed to heal and Waverly didn't dare to send Gaby alone with Solo.  
Not after Illya had glared at him.

„I'm gonna take a bath!" She had announced as soon as Illya had closed the door and had made sure none could enter tonight.

He had watched her disappear into the spacious bathroom and had decided to lay down as he needed rest.  
With a soft smile he had listened to her humming to herself and the splashing of the water.  
He must have drifted away as he was suddenly woken by a string of curse words.   
Illya had jumped up and pounded against the bathroom door.

„Gaby?"

„I'm fine, Illya!" She shouted back, but she couldn't fool him.

„Open up!" He tried to open the door and to his surprise the door wasn't locked.

She confessed to him later that after the incident on an earlier mission she never locked the bathroom door again.   
Confident that the two men wouldn't walk in on her while she was in there.  
The bathroom looked like a battlefield.   
There was blood everywhere.   
Gaby sat on the floor already in her pajamas pressing a towel to the bottom of her foot.

„What happened?" He had asked shocked.

Taking in the whole scene.

„Remember when Solo let that small bottle fall to the floor and it broke? He didn't pick up all the pieces… I found one!" She had grimaced.

Her face was frightenly pale.  
He knew she wasn't good with blood.  
He had picked her up with mild protests from her side.

„You can't walk!" He had argued.

„And you shouldn't carry heavy things around! Remember doctor's order!" She had shot back.

He had cocked an eyebrow at her and carried her to the couch.  
Carefully he had patched her up and they had sworn to tell none.   
The cut was still visible on the sole of her foot.   
But only Illya knew of it.

* * *

„So let me guess… the body in the morgue didn't have that cut?" Solo gulped down the rest of his drink.

„Yes… it is not her…"

„So she is still out there?" Solo asked hopefully. „Why would they go to such length to find someone that looks like Gaby and let us find her?" The two men stared at eachother.

„They could just let her disappear…" Solo murmured still struggling to wrap his head around it.

„This is sick Illya" He had murmured before he felt silent and watched his partner install the rest of his tracking stuff.

The ringing of the phone let them both jump and Solo picked it up hesitantly.  
It was just Waverly.

„How is he?"

„Good…"

There was a long pause.   
Solo watched his partner bustle around in the room.   
Eager to get the tracking machine working.   
Peril's hope was intoxicating.

„I received a film this morning…" Waverly's voice sounded grave and Solo decided to wait.

„It's…bad…. They filmed the whole thing…. It's actually for Kuryakin… but …" Waverly didn't need to say more.

There was no way in hell they would let Peril see the film.  
Tiredly Solo closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
One side of him wanted to believe the big Russian, but part of him also started to realize that their German friend might really have died.  
A horrible death.  
The picture of the woman came up in his mind.   
Broken on that table.   
She looked like Gaby.   
Maybe Illya was wrong.   
Maybe it was Gaby.

„I have a request sir…", he began slowly, aware that his supervisor would probably grant anything he wanted, „we have a little mission of our own…."

„Watch your backs!" Was the only comment Waverly gave and hung up.


	14. Wild goose chase and monsters

The compound hidden behind some trees looked abandoned and not like someone was hiding in it.  
Solo knew better and watched their surrounding while Illya next to him cut open the fence to slip through.  
Their car was parked about a ten minute jog away.  
Well hidden.  
Ready if they needed to escape fast.   
There was a slight tug on his arm and Solo followed his partner through the hole in the fence unto the compound.

They didn't raise any alarms.   
But they rarely did.   
Solo had to admit that they were an excellent team when it came to their breakins.

Quickly they slipped through abandoned floors and with every step his suspicion grew that the building was indeed empty.  
Illya had been optimistic in the hotel room as the tracker he had put on Gaby had sent him a signal from this very building they now snuck through the hallways and checked the rooms.  
Empty rooms.

At the end of the hallway was a staircase.   
They decided to go down, because they both didn't think the upper rooms would be of any help.   
The two agents knew if they hid, it would be underground.

Illya drew his gun and they walked down slowly.   
Hardly making any noise.   
Just the little stones crunching beneath their feet.  
It was dark.  
They didn't care.   
Both their eyes were pretty good in the gloomy light.   
Solo checked the rooms to the right while Illya checked the rooms on the left.  
Every room was another disappointment.

After Solo had checked the fifth room he turned to Illya to tell him that maybe they should call it a night and he was recking his brain how to prepare the Russian that Gaby was indeed dead and his tracker had sent them on a wild goose chase.  
Illya wasn't there.  
Solo's heart picked up speed and he quickly entered the room Illya had disappeared just seconds ago.

It was a small room with a crack in the ceiling.  
Solo noticed the blood on the floor immediately.  
Illya stood there.   
In the middle of the room.   
Staring at the blood in front of him.  
It was a lot of blood.  
Napoleon hoped it didn't belong to Gaby.

"She was here!" Illya's voice sounded hallow.

"What makes you think that? Shouldn't she be here? I mean your tracker…" Solo asked carefully.

His Russian friend raised his left hand and Solo could see that he was holding something between his pointing finger and his thumb.  
It was not bigger than a rice corn.

"Let me guess your tracker?" Solo asked, wondering how advanced it was. He didn't even know they could make trackers this size.

"Is of no use to us anymore!" The Russian hissed through his teeth and crunching the tracker between his fingers.

"Do you think they cut it out of her?" Solo looked around in the room.

There was no clue what so ever on what had happened here.   
They had stripped the room bare before they had left.

"No!"

"You mean she did? Why would she do that?" Solo looked at his partner wide eyed.

Illya's head snapped towards him.   
His eyes blazing and Napoleon knew the monster was just seconds away from breaking through.

"Protecting us!" The Russian's hands shook violently and Solo took a few steps back.

He knew right then he couldn't do anything to keep the monster in check.  
Gaby could have.  
She had a talent in calming the tall Russian.   
Even when Solo had thought it was impossible.   
Just the touch of her hand and her voice seemed to calm Peril in an instant.

"I check the rest of the building and see if I can find more evidence… maybe they left something in their hurry to get away… you try to calm down!" As he spoke he walked backwards and just as he reached the door the monster broke free.


	15. Dealing with a cockroach

Just wanna say thank you to all of you, who left such lovely comments. I hope you enjoy reading this story and there is lots to come. I try to update the story at least once every week. I love to hear from you and enjoy reading :)

* * *

Alexander Waverly didn't remember how long he had sat there and had stared at his glass.   
Considering another or maybe just drowning the whole bottle.  
He felt like crap.  
He never thought something like this would affect him so much.

There was a knock at the door, which let him snap back.  
The professional mask was put in place in milliseconds.  
Rebeca's head popped in.   
She gave him a small smile.

„Mr. Falkon is here, Sir… should I…?" She mouthed.

He shook his head. „Send him in!"

Maybe dealing with one of his own bosses would keep his mind away from all the chaos he was in right now.  
His secretary nodded solemnly and opened the door further to let a man strode into his office.

Falkon was a small, chubby man, whose suits jackets never sat quite right.   
Waverly knew he didn't get the position for his good work in the field.   
Hell, that man never had set foot on a battlefield or had been on a mission.   
Falkon got the job because he was excellent in bribing the right people and his connections. 

His small, watery eyes looked around in the room and settled on Waverly.

„Ah my good Waverly!" He clasped his fat hands together and faked a smile.

Waverly returned the smile halfheartedly.   
Usually he was good in dealing with Falkon, but today was just not the right time.

„I heard what happened to your agent. It is a tragedy! Such a lovely agent! A pity she is dead." Waverly acknowledged the words with a nod and motioned for Falkon to sit. So word had travelled fast.

„You know I would have loved to have borrowed agent Teller for a while. " Falkon spoke, while Waverly had stood up and fixed them a drink.

The words of Falkon let him pause.

„I don't know how agent Teller would have been of any use to you" Waverly said puzzled.

The man ignored his words and took the glass from Waverly.

„Look at the bright side Alexander. She didn't have any family left, so you have no hassle with paperwork and our organisation doesn't need to pay any money to a husband or children. Besides if it had been that brute of a Russian we would have to deal with the KGB and luckily the American is still breathing, don't wanna calm the CIA down… that would have been a hassle. So we got the good deal out of it." Falkon took a zip of his drink and looked at the painting Waverly just recently had hung up.

He didn't notice the white knuckles of Waverly as he gripped his glass tightly.

„My opinion Waverly, women should stay behind the stove and serve us…they are not cut out to do agent's work." Waverly clenched his teeth in anger.

He had never liked Falkon and he knew it was like wise as for Falkon couldn't manipulate him.   
Luckily Waverly was liked and highly respected by the other bosses and Falkon couldn't touch him.   
Nor his team.  
So Falkon had been out and making his life hell.   
Trying to anyway.

„Do you think your remaining team members could bring in her uncle? I heard they are quite good and we have some people, who would like to talk to that German man… I'm sure he has some valuable information for us!" Falkon's eyes rested on him.

„I need to speak to them… they're just identifying the body of agent Teller!" Waverly was surprised how calm he sounded, even though he wanted to punch that man so badly.

The other question was in how many pieces Solo and Kuryakin would bring her uncle back.   
Rudy wouldn't be able to answer questions anymore.

Falkon clicked his tongue. „Ah yes, that body… I wish I would have ordered her earlier to my office and work for me, so I could get my hands on that" He laughed loud and wiggled his brows at Waverly. „But your secretary doesn't look bad either… mind if I borrow her…"

„Get your own Falkon! And if you bother my secretary…." Waverly hissed his temper raising.

„Easy Alexander! I'm just joking around… didn't know you were so greedy!" Falkon laughed and took another zip from his drink.

Luckily just then there was another knock at the door and his secretary appeared again. „There is someone, who wants to talk to you… it sounds rather urgent sir!" 

She gave Falkon a stare and the fat man stood up.

„This is probably my keyword to go" Falkon turned in the door, trying to close his jacket. „Just remember to inform me first hand if you hear anything about Rudy Teller!" He didn't wait for an answer and turned to Rebeca. „If you need a change of workplace just let me know!" His eyes freely wandered over her body that every other normal human being would have blushed.

„Thanks sir, but I'm good here!" Rebeca's voice was cold as ice.

Falkon nodded and finally left.  
Rebeca closed the door and Waverly pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

„I'm sorry! He was probably raised in a barn!"

„Believe me sir even people, who are raised in a barn have more decency than that!" She said gently and closed the door.

„Who wants to talk to me, Rebeca?"

„None Sir, I'm sorry… but I thought you need a break from that ogre!" She placed a tea service down on his desk. „He bothered you way too long for my taste!" She shot a quick look over her shoulder.   
Waverly stared at his secretary and he never had been more glad to have her in his service.


	16. Locking the monster back in

Illya had kept the monster in for so long.   
But now he couldn't any longer.   
The monster tore away from its leash and the red mist descended.   
Just in the corner of his eye he could see Solo slipping out of the room.

„Until you calm down" The words of his partner rang inside of his head. Far away.

Could he ever calm down?  
The only sliver of hope he had possessed was gone.  
The only hope he had to find her.  
The blood on the floor.  
It could be hers.  
If it was… she was dead for certain.  
None would lose so much blood and live.  
He had broken his promise.

The promise he vowed to her everytime she lay fast asleep next to him.   
So close he could hear her heartbeat and her soft breathing.  
The promise she never heard, because he was too afraid to tell her this when she was awake.  
Gaby would roll her eyes at him and tell him she could safe herself.  
She didn't need him.  
But he needed her.  
He needed her curled up next to him.  
He needed to snake his arm around her and pull her closer, breathing in the scent of her.  
He needed to hear her heartbeat and her sleeptalking.  
He needed her smile. The special one she only seemed to give him.  
He needed her to keep the monster inside of him calm.  
He just couldn't live without her.

Sharp pain let his mind focus.   
His knuckles were bloodied from him punching the wall.   
There hadn't been much for him to destroy in the room.  
He closed his eyes and tried to calm down.  
He remembered the time he had one of his more brutal fits and Gaby had helped him through it.

* * *

„You need to calm down! Breathe through your nose Illya!" She had hissed and had reached for his face.

He had lost control after he had met with his KGB handler.   
The man had threatened Gaby and even Solo.   
Illya had been unable to cage the beast and his anger had taken control over him as soon as he had closed the door of his room.   
He hadn't realized Gaby was in there, but she had suddenly stood in front of him placing her small hands on both sides of his face, forcing him somehow to look at her.   
Her hazel eyes had calmed the raging storm inside of him in an instant.   
He had sank to his knees and so did she.   
Her eyes never drifted away from him.

„Breathe… everything is okey!" She had crooned like he was a frightened animal.

There was only his heavy breathing to hear.  
He could have hurt her.   
But somehow he didn't and she hadn't been afraid of him.   
Gaby just watched him and then she hugged him.   
He had melted into the hug and breathed in her scent, which locked the beast in.

„I'm sorry!" He had murmured into her hair and he felt her shake her head.

„It's okay! You are okay!" He should have kissed her right there. She had been so close, but Solo had that damn timing and had burst through the door.

„I saw Oleg…" The American had stopped in the threshold and froze.

The room had been a disaster and in the middle of all sat his two partners.

* * *

Solo.  
Illya took another shakey breath and got to his feet.  
He had to find Solo.   
The Russian stretched his fingers.   
It was painful, but hopefully nothing was broken.

The hallways were dark and Illya carefully walked down.   
There were many rooms.   
Most of them were empty and probably hadn't been used for a while.   
He took another flight of stairs.   
Solo probably had taken them too.   
He stepped over debris, ducking as the ceiling suddenly lowered.

The next floor looked almost identical to the one he had just been through.   
Just that at the end of the tunnel was light coming from a room.  
Illya's fine hearing picked up voices.  
He slowly crept closer.   
Careful not to make any sound, but he always had been good in walking unnoticed.   
Cautiously he peeked into the room.

Damn it Cowboy!

Solo stood with his hands raised in the middle of the room.   
Someone stood behind him, pointing a gun at his head.

„Where is he?" The man drawled in an accent Illya couldn't quite pinpoint.

„I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's only me. I left the Russian drowning his sorrows at the local bar. I'm certain you will find him there. But I have to warn you if he gets drunk he can be quite cuddly!" Solo joked and Illya rolled his eyes.

The man didn't like any of this and pressed the gun harder on Solo's head.   
The American flinched.   
Illya was tempted to watch Solo squirm a little more, but he still needed the American.   
So he stepped out of his hiding spot and knocked the man out.


	17. Getting information

Solo had his attention just for a second drawn to the frozen picture on the projection wall.   
One second had been enough for the man to come out and point the gun at him.   
He had frozen as he had felt the barrel of the gun pressed against his skull.   
In his mind he had scolded himself for being so reckless.   
Damn this wasn't his first rodeo and it was certainly not the first time someone had pointed a gun to his head.

„Do you like what you see?" The man behind him had purred and Solo knew the man referred to the picture in front of them.

The frozen one.  
It must have been from a movie.  
Frozen so they would see it.  
Just for them.  
To get under their skin.

„Is she your friend?" Solo had asked, playing stupid.

„Do you think I don't know who you are? Do you think I'm stupid?" The man snarled.

„I don't think you want my honest opinion on that!" Solo sighed and wondered where the Russian was when he was needed.

„Where is your Russian friend?" As if he had read his mind.

„Who?" Solo furrowed his brow.

„The tall Russian! Your partner! The one we hung with you, but apparently you two are too stupid to die!" The man spat.

Solo stiffened.   
That man had been there when they got hung?  
That bastard!

„Where is he?" The man drawled and Solo tried to pinpoint the weird accent.

„I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's only me. I left the Russian drowning his sorrows at the local bar. I'm certain you will find him there. But I have to warn you if he gets drunk he can be quite cuddly!" He joked trying to buy more time.

The goon pressed the gun barrel harder to his head and Solo stiffened.  
To his relief he heard a knock and a heavy thud as an unconscious body hit the floor.  
Solo whirled around.  
Illya towered over the body a disgusted look on his face.

„I get cuddly?" He asked mockingly as he raised his eyes to Solo.

The American shrugged and was just about to answer as he saw Illya's gaze wander behind him.   
The Russian's eyes widened in shock and all color drained from his face.   
Solo whirled around remembering the very picture that had nearly cost him his own life.

Huge hazel eyes stared back at them.   
Wide with fear.   
Her brown hair clung to the side of her face.   
She had a split lip and her face looked battered.   
Bruises in all size and color decorated it along with some cuts.   
Around her throat was a purple necklace of fingerprints.  
It was their friend no doubt.  
Someone had halted the film just as they had zoomed in on her face.

Illya was frozen.   
Unable to move.   
Just the tapping of his finger gave him away.  
Solo swore under his breath and stepped to the projector.   
He turned it off.  
He needed Peril.  
Napoleon didn't want the Russian to fall in another fit.

Illya blinked unfocused.   
Still dazed by the picture he just saw.  
A muscle in his jaw started to tick and Napoleon stepped closer to his friend and grabbed his shoulder.

„Illya?! Focus! Do you hear me? He ..", he pointed at the man to Illya's feet, „he was there when they hung us" This brought Peril back and he looked down on the man.

„Bastard!" The Russian hissed, anger flaring in his eyes.

„He might can tell us where the people are who did this to her!"

Illya's head snapped up.

„I make him tell us!" He whispered and it ran ice cold down Solo's spine.

„I just have to remember to never getting on your bad side!" Solo sighed as he watched Peril half throw the unconscious man on to a chair like he was a puppet.

Napoleon helped him secure the goon to the chair and as Illya dissappeared Solo studied the man in front of him.   
He couldn't remember him, but there had been a lot of people in the warehouse and most of the time he had his eyes closed and after the bright lights of the spotlights had been turned on, there had been no chance to see any faces.

Napoleon had just set fire to the film role as the goon came to himself, blinking into the fire.   
Confused.   
It took him a few seconds to realize he wasn't in a very good position and started to rip on his ties.

„I would leave that… it's no use!" Solo said stepping away from the smoldering fire.

He had decided it was better for them both to not look at the footage.  
Remembering the phone call he had a few hours ago.

The goon glared at him. „Do you think I will talk to you?"

Solo sighed tiredly. „I give you one tip. You should. You know my Russian friend won't stop until you talk and he is quite good in getting out information he wants!" Like on cue Illya waltzed in.

„Ready to talk?" His accent thick and the threat rolling off of him in waves.

The goon sneared at him.

„As if I would talk to a filthy Russian!" He spat and glared at Illya, who ignored the man and arranged something on the table behind the goon.

„Do you want to know what we did to your little whore? How she screamed, beggin to stop?" Illya walked in front of the man, who glared up on the Russian his eyes full of hatred.

„She would never beg!", Illya spoke so quietly Solo had to strain his ears to hear something, „But you will!" The man's eyes widened slightly and somehow Solo felt a sliver of pity for the man.

„Where is she?" Illya asked casually.

The man laughed, but immediately howled in pain as Illya broke two of his fingers.

„Where is she?" He repeated calmly the question.

„Didn't you find her? We dumped her on the side of the road. We threw her out like garbage she was! Every idiot would find her. I thought you were supposed to be the best? " The man groaned, straightening in his chair.

„But before he killed her we had some fun with her", the goon wiggled his brows and Solo felt sick to the stomach, „I have to tell you that amazing body of hers is perfect to fuck…Aaaah!"

Snap!  
His wrist was broken and the goon passed out.

„Peril?"

„I'm good, Cowboy!", Illya was breathing heavy, „I know he wants to get under my skin!" He turned to his partner.

„Do you think he will tell us something useful?" Solo watched the passed out man warily.

„No!", Illya shook his head and stepped behind the goon, „He will only throw things of Gaby at us. He might know nothing!" The Russian grumbled and Solo could see a syringe in his hand.

„Ehm… What are you doing?" Solo asked confused, half expecting the Russian to snap the man's neck.

„He will guide us to uncle Rudy!"

„How come?"

„Because I will implant tracker and then we let him go!"

„So you have like a glass full of those tiny trackers with you?" Solo starred at his partner. How come he had never seen or heard of such trackers.

„No, don't be ridiculous. I had three, but I have to call to get a new one for Gaby!" Solo blinked at his partner realization dawning on him.

„Wait… who did you implant the second tracker?"

Illya ignored him and shushed the American as the goon's eyelids fluttered.


	18. A mole

The light of the evening sun fell warm into Waverly's office.   
On any other given day he would have called it a night and would have headed to the restaurant to meet up with his wife.   
None here knew about her and it was for the better.   
She on the other hand believed he was working for some big corporation.   
She didn't probe him about it.   
She knew better.

In front of him stood the team he had sent to Paris to investigate.   
They had come to his office straight from the airport.   
Olsen, the team leader, sat in the big chair in front of his desk.   
He was like Solo from the CIA and was a gruffly looking man with a big, bushy mustache.   
His partner Smith, a small man, stood behind him, his hand resting on the backrest of Olsen's chair.   
He was MI6 and one of the best of his graduation year and the kindest man Waverly had ever crossed path with.   
His ginger hair was gelled back and the light blue eyes looked kindly at Waverly.  
Back at the door paced Strittmatter, a Swiss agent, up and down like a tigress.   
Her long, black hair in a tight braid like always.   
Cho, the last in the group, watched her calmly.   
He had been a present from the Chinese intelligence.   
His loyalties only lay with Strittmatter, because she came from the place where the best chocolate came from.  
Olsen had just finished his report.   
His teammates listening.

"Anything else?" Waverly asked, because somehow he knew that there was something more.

Olsen looked up at Smith.   
The Brit cleared his throat.

"We are not sure" he started slowly.

"I am!" Strittmatter chimed in, not breaking her stride.

Smith looked at Olsen and sighed heavily.

"We think it was an inside job. They knew where they would be, their alias and how the job would happen!" Waverly studied his team.

"Someone delivered them on a silver plate!" Agent Strittmatter spoke up, halting in her pacing.

"Martina, that's just your intuition!" Smith spoke softly not looking at his colleague.

She huffed at him, crossing her arms in defense.   
Waverly could tell they hadn't the conversation for the first time.

"Do you really think Kuryakin, Solo and Teller would have been so stupid?" She snapped at him.

Waverly drummed his fingers on his desk, lost in thought.  
Could it be?  
Could it have been an inside job?  
Someone in the U.N.C.L.E. Organisation betraying his own people.  
A mole.  
Who?

"What are you not telling us Waverly?" Olsen asked, bringing him back to reality.

Waverly looked at his agents.   
They all stared at him.

"Uncle Rudi is alive and well!" The hush, which came over the room, was deafening.

"Are you kidding?" Chan asked with a perfect British accent. 

Waverly starred at the Chinese.   
It was the first time he had spoken.

"Are we talking about the same uncle Rudy?" Martina asked, glancing between her partners and her boss.

"Solo told us he and Kuryakin watched him go up in flames or so…." Olsen murmured confused.

"Fixing a glitch!" Smith finished his sentence and squeezed gently the shoulder of Olsen.

They looked at each other.  
Waverly sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
It was about time he told his second team the whole story.  
Getting them updated.


	19. A quiet place to think

WELL, HERE IS ANOTHER PRETTY LONG CHAPTER AND I REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS WILL ENJOY IT. THANKS FOR ALL OF YOU, WHO HAVE STUCK TO THIS STORY FOR THIS LONG AND THERE IS YET MORE TO COME ;) I WISH YOU ALL A HAPPY WEEKEND AND MAYBE I WILL UPLOAD SOME MORE THIS WEEKEND :D THANK YOU FOR READING AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ;)

* * *

The morgue was a quiet place.   
Somewhere he could sort out his racing thoughts.   
He hadn't planned to come here, but as he had walked through the streets of the little town, they had brought him here.  
Now he was sitting in the dimly lit morgue and starred at the outline of the body hidden beneath the white sheet.  
It was not Gaby.  
He had repeated this thought the whole time since the doctor had raised the sheet to reveal the battered body underneath it.

The body, which almost looked like Gaby.  
Almost.  
It was not Gaby.  
As if his sheer will could change it.

Illya could remember the very first time he had thought she had died.  
That her life had slipped through his hands.  
The panic.  
The world coming to a shuddering halt and the coldness taking over his own body.  
The relief as she was breathing again.  
When she had opened her eyes again and that soft smile as she had seen him.  
The gratefulness spreading through his veins and making him work and think again.  
He had thought after that it would get easier.   
He had been wrong.

Illya had been taught that people were like pawns.   
Easily replaced if they didn't do their job.  
He had always worked like that.   
Death hadn't affected him that much.  
Until they came.

The loud American with his expensive, elaborate taste and the infuriating comments and the small German woman, who just simply had strode into his heart and tipped his world upside down.  
They couldn't be replaced.

* * *

"They make you soft!" His handler had scoffed as they had met during one of their missions in a lonely street café.

Illya knew better.   
They made him care and he never had been a better spy than with them.

"Technically he is not your boss anymore!" Solo had told him just before he had left them.

Waverly was.  
Solo didn't know.   
Didn't understand.   
The KGB had him on a very short leash and they would never let their best agent go.   
Not without a fight.   
If they knew they could use Solo or Gaby as a leverage they would.   
Just to keep him in check.   
To still have control over him.   
Even though he knew Waverly made it hard for them.

"You got the information from the Nazi girl?" Oleg had stirred his coffee slowly.

His eyes never leaving Illya.   
Illya had stared at him.   
Unmoving.  
Breathing in.   
Breathing out.  
Calming himself.  
He had wanted to go back to the hotelroom and see if Solo had managed to talk Gaby out of the meeting with her friend.

He hadn't trust the American.  
He slowly did, but Cowboy had suffered from a concussion and he always had bad ideas then.   
Gaby had been so stubborn about the whole thing.   
Making his blood boil and teasing him.   
Leaving these two alone in the hotelroom wasn't a smart idea.

"I'm working on it. It's not easy!" He had heard himself say.

Oleg had just raised an eyebrow.

"She doesn't trust me. I'm Russian after all! The American is a problem too!" The lie had rolled easily from his tongue.

Don't let them see that you care for them.   
He needed to protect them.

"I thought you were better! Make sure you get it or do I have to send someone else to get me the information. It won't be that pleasant for her and I don't want UNCLE to think we are not cooperating. It will hang on you!" Oleg had starred at Illya and he had been the first to look away.

* * *

Tiredly Illya rubbed his hands over his face.   
That meeting had been one of the worst he had with Oleg.  
Not the meeting.   
The aftermath of the meeting.   
The betrayal in her eyes when she found out.   
In a matter of seconds he had lost her trust.   
He had lost her.  
It had taken an eternity until she had trusted him again.   
A lot of proving himself to her.  
Now he had failed her again.

"I'm sorry!" He whispered.

It sounded hallow in the big room.   
Bouncing off the walls.  
He stared at the body.  
It was not her.  
It couldn't!

The bowl with the scalpels and other tools flew through the room and clattered to the floor.   
He clasped his hands over his face.  
Unable to cry.   
Not if there was still the tiny seed of hope for her to be alive.  
He felt powerless.

He wanted to wake up from this nightmare and just go back to the hotelroom and find her there.   
Occupying the whole couch and looking up from a book sheepishly.   
He wanted her to tell him that she used all the hot water and she hoped he didn't mind having a cold one.   
He wouldn't.   
He would shower the rest of his life with cold water.   
He just wanted her back.

Illya wanted her to scold at him for being out so long and telling him Solo was a lot more fun to be around.   
He even would let her go on missions only with Solo.   
He wouldn't mind if that would bring her back.  
He was willing to give everything.  
How could he return to London without her?

Coming back to their apartment the trio shared and seeing all the things of her.   
Reminding him of her.   
It had cost Solo and him a lot of persuading her to move in with them.   
Even though she had persisted in the beginning to have her own flat and he never had thought a simple flu would change her mind.   
A bitter smile crept on his lips.

He couldn't return to a flat full of her things, her pictures, her books and her smell lingering in the air and reminding him of her.   
Never seeing her walking through the door again.   
Never seeing her bothering Cowboy while he was getting dinner ready.   
Her part of the couch empty.   
That part of the couch he could clearly see from his spot by just looking up.  
And there was the cat.

The cat she had brought one evening home from a shelter.   
Because she had always wanted one.   
Of course she hadn't picked a sweet kitten.   
She had taken the one they couldn't get rid off.   
The one none took.   
The ugliest.   
The one with a scar over his face from a previous fight.

"He is perfect for us!" She had told him, scratching the cat behind his ears.

"Who will look after it when we are gone for weeks?" He had countered glaring at the cat she had named Henry.

"Rebeca will! She promised to stop by and she knows when we are on a mission!" She had beamed at him and crooning to the cat that Illya was actually really nice and he didn't mean it like that.

The cat had loved him from the start to a clear dismay of Gaby.   
She had grumbled to herself that this wasn't fair, because she had been the one picking him out at the shelter.   
He should be thankful to her.   
He should love her and not that stupid Russian.   
She hadn't meant it like that.   
Eventually the cat warmed up to her as well, but not to Solo.   
Illya had found it very amusing.

A big sigh escaped his lips as he looked up with tired eyes at the body.  
It wasn't her.  
He wanted to see her alive again.   
He had to.

He wanted her to give him that lopsided grin.   
The sparkling in her eyes.   
He wanted her to take is breath away wearing yet another ridiculous expensive dress.  
He wanted her sneaking into his room at 2 am and mumbling she couldn't sleep, while she crawled into bed next to him.  
He wanted to finally kiss her, to tell her everything he cowardly never had.   
He wouldn't care if she would roll her eyes at him.   
Even if she told him, she didn't feel the same way.   
He wouldn't care if someone interupted them.  
He couldn't believe that it might have been too late.

Slowly he got up and walked like in a trance to the table.  
Illya stared down at the white blanket hiding the battered body.  
Carefully he lifted the sheet.

* * *

"You know she begged her uncle to kill her in the beginning. She wasn't fun at all. Like she deserved to be tortured. No fight! She tried to get her uncle angry just so he would slip and kill her." The goon had wheezed.

His teeth blood stained.   
Illya had glared at the man.   
His fingers twitching.  
They had feared this would have happened.

"But when he showed her the pictures of you…" He had taken a shakey breath, grinning at both agents.

Illya had shot him a murderous glare, which would have froze hell.   
He wanted to break more bones.   
He wanted the man to pay.   
He had felt Solo behind him clearing his throat, anchoring him back to reality.  
He needed to stick to the plan.  
Keep it professional.

"Damn you should have seen it…. That spark in her eyes. That was fun after it. Her fighting for her life, trying to please him!" The man had laughed.

Blood running down his chin and splattering over his clothes.   
Illya had felt like he wanted to through up.

"Do you want to know how he killed her?" The man had looked at Illya and Solo.

He tried to straighten up in the chair and not really waiting for an answer.

"He poisoned her. Never heard or seen a poison like it. It sets your blood on fire and you die a slow, agonizing death! Your girl died in the worst way possible! Without you! Cold and alone!" The goon had giggled and Illya couldn't hold back any longer.

He had launched himself onto the man.   
He would kill him.  
He still couldn't quite figure out how he had managed not to.  
Maybe it was Solo, who had pulled him back or the words, which he had yelled.

"If you kill him we will never find her!"

He had stopped then.   
With his hand around the man's throat.   
Snapping out of the red mist.  
The goon had the audacity to grin at him.

"Do it big boy! Won't bring her back either!" He had closed his hands around the throat.

But he hadn't killed him.   
Only leaving him unconscious.  
Illya had rolled back on his feet.   
Trying to calm himself down.

"What the…!" Solo had sworn under his breath, racking his hands through his perfect hair.

For once he didn't care about appearance.  
They had waited until the thug's fingers had twitched and his eyelids had fluttered again.   
Aware that he was able to listen.

"What did I say? Don't kill him! He just wanted to get under your skin. Now look what you have done our last lead, idiot!" Solo had snarled frustrated.

"He deserved it! We will find another and that one will sing!" Illya had stared at the man. Debating if it wasn't better to kill him anyway.

"Let's go! We need to get back to London." Solo had sighed, grabbing his arm as if he was afraid Illya would kill him.

Cowboy knew him all too well.  
Wasn't always a blessing.

"Don't you want to bury him?" Illya had rasped.

"Do you think he deserves to be buried?" Solo had asked back a pleading in his eyes to go.

"Njet, he deserves to rot here!" They had left then, leaving the man on the ground.

Hoping their plan would work out.

* * *

Illya had seen a lot of horrible things in his career.   
But this made his stomach clench.  
Carefully he folded the sheet back, revealing the battered body.   
His eyes drifted over the map of bruises.   
Showing him the suffering the woman had been through.  
The woman, who looked almost like Gaby.  
It wasn't her.  
He heard himself repeat it over and over under his breath.   
Like a prayer.   
As if this would make it come true.   
As if it would push back the upcoming doubt.   
The tiny voice whispering in his ears that maybe Bob, the doctor and even Solo were right.   
That she was dead.  
Never breathing again.   
Never annoying him again.   
Never.   
Never.   
Never.   
He closed his eyes and tried to calm down.   
His hands were shaking violently.


	20. Solo worries

Solo stared at the clock.   
Peril had been gone for a while now.   
Even though he never worried about the tall Russian.   
Today was one of those rare days, he did.

The Room they stayed in was small.   
Far smaller than the others.   
It was enough for them.   
For this mission.   
Solo played with his glass.   
The liquid sloshed lazily.   
He had filled the glass with whatever expensive alcohol he had found in the mini bar.  
He glanced at the door.   
Expecting Illya to burst through it any minute now.  
He didn't.

Illya had left in a hurry, not saying anything.  
Solo took another zip.   
He should have followed his partner.   
That's what real friends would do.   
They had long crossed the line of just being partners.   
He was his friend.   
The only human being, besides Gaby, who knew him really.   
Maybe better than his parents ever had.  
He always had been a loner.   
Quick, not important and superficial relationships were his thing.   
Not letting people see the real Napoleon Solo.   
It was the last he had expected to find in his teammates.   
Real friends.   
He didn't dare to call them family.   
Because deep down he knew they were.

"Where are you Peril?" He huffed annoyed and scolded himself for letting the Russian go.

Illya hadn't looked good as they had returned.   
The sleepless nights took a toll on the man and the guilt was crushing the poor Russian.   
Who knew to what Kuryakin was capable of in his state.  
Solo got up and strode to the window, glancing out on the streets.   
Snow was falling softly and sticking on the streets below him.   
None was out.

* * *

It had started to snow when they had left the compound.   
The white, small flakes had settled on their hair and on the ground around them as they had snuck down the forest road.   
Solo had recked his brain to comfort the Russian, because he knew the words of the goon had gotten to Illya.   
The Russian had thick skin, but not when it came to Gaby.   
Gaby was his weakness.   
And she was his too.   
She was his best friend.   
A little sister he never had.

So they had ran down the almost overgrown road to their hidden car in silence.   
At the car Solo had finally found words.   
Not good ones.   
He had cringed at them inwardly.

"You think she's still alive?" Illya had shot him a glare over the roof of the car. Any other man would have run for cover.

"She's tough!" Solo had assured him, but the words sounded lame in his ears.

"I'll find her! I always do!" Kuryakin had whispered almost inaudible, getting into the car and Solo had to hurry to get in as well.

* * *

Solo watched the snowflakes fall.   
The snow made Solo aware that Gaby had been gone for weeks now.   
Nobody could survive torture in this magnitude for that long.   
Gaby was small and she had been sick for a couple of days.   
Weak.   
They had been concerned about her and he remembered her on that couch.   
Pale, nearly translucent.   
The panic in Peril's eyes.   
The helplessness they had both felt, not able to help her.   
It was not a good start to endure torture.

The woman in the morgue.  
Looking like Gaby.

The reality made him gasp for air.   
He always had been aware, he would lose a teammate eventually and he had in the past.   
None of them had meant something to him.   
None had made him pray to be alive, to hold on just a little longer.  
He never thought it would have been Gaby.   
Peril maybe.   
Being the hero and trying to safe them.   
Safe her.   
The Russian had made it to his own mission to play Gaby's guardian angel.   
Always looking out for her.   
Making sure she was safe.

That idiot was in love with her and wouldn't dare to admit it.   
His actions were louder than words, but of course the KGB agent would never admit.   
Would blame his behavior on the current mission.   
Solo had found it really funny to watch them both.   
Tease them.   
It was his personal entertainment.   
Finally he had believed the Russian would take the necessary step, but then came the betrayal and it had driven the chop shop girl away from Peril.

He had seen Illya's despair.   
Solo knew the tall Russian never wanted it this way.   
He had felt for Kuryakin.

Realization kicked in.  
It was nearly crushing him and he had to sit down on the windowsill.  
Suddenly Napoleon understood Peril's denial.   
It meant never being able to tell her.   
How sorry he was.   
How much he loved her.   
Admitting he failed her.

Solo knew how much Illya needed her.  
How was he supposed to tell him?   
To make him see?

He didn't want to believe it either.  
There had been so many times she had almost died.   
Always strolled away from it.   
He almost expected her to walk in.   
Halting in the doorframe and looking at him annoyed.   
Scolding him for not pouring her a drink as well.  
He downed his drink.   
Ignoring the burn in his throat.  
Tiredly he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily.   
Solo let his head fall back on the cold window, closing his eyes exhausted, remembering a night.  
A night he had made a promise.

* * *

Moonlight had fallen through the windows as he had returned from a night out.   
The safehouse was in a quiet part of the town.   
They had to lay low.   
It didn't held him back to go out, leaving Peril and Gaby alone in the house.   
A beautiful one he had to admit.

One part of him had hoped Illya would finally take a step.   
A much needed step.   
So of course he hadn't expected the little mechanic rising from one of the armchairs in the moon lit living room.

"Can't sleep?" He had asked casually, not used for someone to stay up waiting for him, draping his coat over the couch.

She had crossed her arms over the morning coat she was wearing.   
Her hair was slightly ruffled from sleep or better the tossing and turning caused by the lack of sleep.   
Napoleon had noticed her wearing the silk nightgown underneath it.   
The nighty they had bought together.   
Probably both in their minds to push the Russian the extra inch he needed.  
Somehow he had admired the Russian for his self restraint, because if he would have been alone with a woman dressed like that… He hadn't let his thoughts go too far.

"Where is the tall Russian shadow following you everywhere?" He had asked and smiled at the German woman, who had looked determined.

She had ignored his question.

"We need to talk!" Her jaw was set hard and he had known she wouldn't let him change her mind.

"Alright! Drink?" He had asked, stepping to the liquor cabinet.

Not waiting for an answer he had poured them both a drink and sat down, giving Gaby her tumbler.   
The small woman had taken the seat next to Solo and had watched the ember liquid in her glass as if she needed to draw up her courage.  
Solo had waited for her.   
Giving her the time she needed.

"He was shot because of me" Her voice had been quiet.

Her eyes still on the liquid.   
It was not a question.   
Just a simple statement.   
It had let him pause and he had looked at her.

"Gaby… it's not your fault. We both know he would throw himself in front of any danger coming your way! Even though you're giving him the silent treatment for way too long" This had made her look up, frowning at him. "That man has been in love since he probably had laid eyes on you! We both know he's not afraid of getting tortured, beaten and shot, but admitting his feelings towards you... it scares the shit out of KGB's best agent!" He had winked at her and even though the light was bad, he had thought to see Gaby's cheeks turning red.

She had nestled with her morning gown, zipping on her drink. "He was almost killed today…because of me!" She had whispered.

He had had to strain his ears to understand her.

"Sometimes I wonder if anything could kill or break that man!" He had half joked, glancing at the little mechanic and knowing all too well what would break the giant of a Russian.

Gaby had rolled her beautiful eyes at him and had drowned her whole drink.

"I need you to promise me something Napoleon!" She had said. Her voice thick with authority and he hadn't dared to speak up.

So he had made a promise.   
Gaby had even made him pinky swear on it as if he would break a promise to her.  
He wouldn't.  
Never.  
Although it scared him and he had wished it would never happen.

* * *

His eyes flew to the clock again.  
He should go out and look for Peril.   
He owed him.   
Her.   
A sound at the door made his head snap up.   
His head all of a sudden clear.  
Someone tried to break in.


	21. The lies we come up with

Illya willed himself to calm down.  
Breathe in.   
Breathe out.   
Closing his eyes and imagining Gaby standing in front of him.   
Taking his hands.   
Locking the monster in.   
Breathe in.   
Breathe out.  
His eyes snapped open. 

Calm again and he let his cold fingers flew over her body.   
The first scar was there.   
Right were the bullet had nicked her.   
It made his heart race.   
That was nothing.   
Meant nothing.   
They could have done it to the poor girl.   
To let her look like Gaby.   
He noticed the slight shake of his fingers.   
He checked the next scar.   
It was there as well.   
He felt his breathing pick up and he stepped to her feet.   
Illya knew exactly were the thin, silver scar lay on the sole of her foot.   
Relief washed over him as it wasn't there.

Everytime a scar wasn't there it calmed him.   
Everytime a scar was there it made his heart race and the doubt well up.

"It's not her!" Illya whispered into the room, staring at the battered face.

A face he knew too well.   
He had memorized it over and over again.   
He had studied it.   
It was imprinted in his mind.   
Even tough the woman looked like Gaby everything seemed wrong to him.   
Or did he just make himself believe it was wrong?   
Because he couldn't accept that she was dead.

Illya stared at the girl.   
He had to give them this.   
The woman looked like Gaby.   
A doppelgänger.   
It was an exquisite job.   
Everyone would fall for it.   
Even Solo had.   
Or maybe he was just…

"It can't be you!" He gritted between his teeth, staring at the woman. Pushing away the doubt.

His head snapped up as the doors to the morgue got pushed open.   
Letting him snap out of his poundering.   
The doctor froze in his tracks, eyes widening as he saw the tall man bending over the body of the poor, young woman.   
He cleared his throat.

"Mr. Kuryakin?"

Illya frowned at him.

"What do you want?" He snapped, glowering at him.

The doctor looked around nervously.   
Illya sighed.   
He was aware that most people were afraid of him.   
Scared to death.   
She never had been.   
His gaze snapped back to the woman.

"I came to prepare Miss Teller for her journey to London. Mr. Waverly wants her in the Headquarter… But if you need more time… I…I can come back later…"

The doctor looked at him in sympathy.   
Illya's gaze drifted once again over her face.   
The bruises, the black eye, the broken nose.   
He was just about to tell the doctor that it was okay.   
That he could take her, when a memory rushed up to him.   
Letting him gasp for air.   
He felt his finger shake.

"I…need a moment!" Illya pressed out.

His eyes never leaving the woman.   
He heard the doctor leave.   
Probably glad not to be in a room with him anymore.   
Illya's mind had already drifted back to an evening.

* * *

There had been a fire crackling lazily in the fireplace.   
He had been bent over another chess match against himself.   
Gaby had been sprawled over her part of the couch.   
The one he had the perfect view on.

Henry had been laying on her belly, purring and from time to time looking at him.   
He had stolen glances too.   
Not at the cat.   
But at Gaby.   
She had stared at the ceiling absentmindedly, scratching Henry behind his ears and the other hand in her mouth.   
As if she had something between her molars and couldn't get it out.   
He remembered being tense.   
It was the first time they had been alone since the incident.   
Solo had left them alone.

"It is about time!", Solo had hissed as he was leaving the appartement for a bar, "It's been months of you two not talking and her refusing to share a room with you. I need my privacy during missions! Fix it!"

He had hated Cowboy in that moment.   
Starring at the front door of their appartement as the American had slammed it shut.

He had felt like he was sitting on a bomb.   
Solo knew exactly how many times he had apologized to her.   
Trying to convince her to trust him again.   
The thing with trust was that once it was broken, it was really hard to put it back together.

The big KGB agent was scared.   
It was comically to him.   
Any other time he would have teased her to get out of her sulking.   
Not this time.

So it was no wonder he nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke.

"I have a question" She wasn't looking at him, her eyes still on the ceiling. Her fingers in her mouth poking on something.

"Mmmmh?" He had tried to act cool.

Not to show that it flustered him and made him nervous.   
Illya didn't want to mess up his chance.   
He placed one of is chess pieces, which was a really bad move, but he had to do something.

"You are an expert in trackers, right?" He had looked up, scared out of his mind that she had found out about his other tracker he had set in her.

Without her knowledge.   
He had realized then that this would break the thin ice they were currently moving on with their relationship.  
He had shrugged.

"Wouldn't say that!" He had murmured and this time she had turned her head and glowered at him.

"Always the humble Russian, aren't you?" He had swallowed hard. There was no room for mistakes.

"Your question?" He had been surprised how even his voice had sounded.

"Is there a possibility of a tracker to be wrapped around a tooth?" This made him pause and frown at her.

"Why would you think that?"

"Would it be a possibility? Could that tracker survive for years?" She had looked at him.

Illya had seen the vulnerability in her eyes and it surprised him that she wouldn't talk or let him touch her for weeks, no months, and now come up with something like this.  
He had swallowed hard.

"It would be an extraordinarily good tracker and… would require to hold still for a while… why would you…"

He had looked at her having still her fingers in her mouth.   
He had gotten up so fast that he had startled her.   
Not the cat.   
Henry had looked at him through half closed eyes.   
Miauing as he sat next to her on the couch.   
Gaby had glowered at him, scooting over a little to make room for him.   
Illya had looked down on her.

"Open your mouth", she had set her jaw and starred at him stubbornly, "please!"

Gaby had sighed heavily and had opened her mouth.   
He had tipped her head back.   
He couldn't see anything.   
So he had gotten up and got the small flashlight they kept in a drawer.   
By the time he had returned, Gaby had sat up with her head leaning against the back of the couch.

"Why do you think you have tracker in mouth?" Illya had asked her gently as he had sat down next to her.

She had shrugged, looking at her fingers.

"My dad… when I saw him in Rome he made a comment!" Gaby had looked at him.

The hostile look she always had given him after the incident gone.

"He had said that he always had known where I was to find me… but … if he did why didn't he come Illya? If he knew where I was the whole time? Why didn't he come?"

"To protect you?" She glared at him.

He quickly added. "He was around very dangerous people Gaby. I'm sure he didn't want you around them"

Her gaze softened and Illya felt relief wash over him.

"So why do you think your father would place tracker in your mouth?" He had asked and tipped her head back.

"Long story…" She had mumbled and had opened her mouth.

To his surprise there was indeed a tracker.  
He had never seen anything like it.   
Only an expert would have known there was one.

"And?" She had asked.

"Nothing! It must have fallen out long ago!" He had lied.

The lie had rolled easily over his lips.   
He hadn't wanted to lie to her again.   
It was necessary.   
Otherwise she would have wanted him to remove it.   
None would expect a tracker in her mouth.   
Solo would have frowned at him and probably would have shaken his head at him.

"Really Peril? This is how you get your girl back?"

"She is not my girl!" He would never get that lucky.

So he hadn't told Cowboy about the tracker.   
Because the American didn't need to know, the fewer people the better.   
He had found out the code of the tracker.   
He had also learnt that it was impossible for detection gear to find it.  
It was his safety net.   
If everything would go downhill.   
Illya had pushed it to the back of his mind and he had almost forgotten about it.   
Almost.

* * *

Satisfied he looked at the molars on the small medicine table.   
They had no tracker.   
It made his heart sing.   
He could breathe more easily.   
Illya glanced at the woman hidden under the sheet again.

"I'm sorry!" The Russian agent breathed.

He had to break her jaw to get what he wanted.   
It had been worth it.  
It was not Gaby.  
He would prove it to Cowboy.  
Carefully he put the teeth in a bag and sighed heavily.

"Sir?" One of the assistants popped her head in and looked at him warily.

"I'm done! Thank you!" He even smiled at her and left the morgue with quick steps.


	22. A simple chat

"God dammit Peril! I almost shot you!" Solo yelled, lowering his gun and letting his other hand ran through his mused hair.

Illya looked at him amused and concerned at the same time.   
Solo's tie was loosened and the sleeves of his shirt pulled back.   
He must have been drinking, cause he could smell the alcohol in the air.   
The American looked exhausted and… worried?

"Couldn't you just knock?" Solo snapped and put the gun on the table.

"Forgot my key! Thought you were already sleeping!" Illya said sheepishly, crossing the room in a few strides and letting himself fall on the armchair.

"Sleeping? Seriously? And you still out there doing who knows what!" Solo barked, crossing his arms and staring down on Peril.

"Were you worried?" Illya teased the American, a small smile forming on his lips.

Napoleon glared at him.   
He hardly lost his cockiness and there seemed to be always a joke on his lips, a mockery directed to his partners.   
Not today.   
These days had even him worn out.

"Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?" Solo growled, eyeing the Russian suspiciously. Why was he in such good spirits?

"You look like you are gonna jump off the next bridge! You hardly sleep or eat. Your patience is running low and …" Solo cut himself off before the more hurtful words stumble out. Instead he flopped on the sofa opposite of Peril and glowered at the Russian.

"What were you doing anyway?" The American asked suddenly curious. The corner of Illya's mouth twitched.

"I was at morgue!" Solo gaped at him, not sure what to say.

Illya didn't let him as he continued talking.

"It's not Gaby", Illya didn't miss the sudden stiffness in the American's body, "I have prove!" It took Solo a few seconds to register what the Russian had just thrown on the small couch table. Neatly packed into a plastic bag.

"Are those…", Napoleon could only stare at his partner, "why?"

Had Peril gone full crazy now?

Illya took a deep breath before he told his partner about the tracker in Gaby's mouth.   
He didn't tell the American the whole story.   
Just the important part.   
At the end of it Solo stared at the molars on the table.

"You lied to her?"

"It's not important right now!" Illya sulked.

"She's going to kill you if she finds out…" Solo breathed, staring at the teeth in front of him.

"Gaby can kill me if she likes… after we find her!" Illya sighed, tapping his finger on his knee. The American was ruining his mood.

Solo sighed heavily and he felt the blue eyes of the Russian on him.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you Peril, but that means nothing!" He ignored the burning stare the Russian gave him. "Her uncle could simply have known about it… the tracker could have led him to us in Paris… Udo Teller might have told him about it or Rudy himself has told her father to implant the tracker…!" Napoleon looked at his partner saddened.

Before Illya could respond to it, the shril demanding ringing of the telephone interupted the silence.  
Solo shot his partner a last look and picked up the phone.

"To whom am I speaking?" He didn't care about the impatient edge of his voice or that it sounded more like a snarl.

"Aah, agent Solo I assume. Why in such a bad mood? It is some time since we heard of eachother" The voice let an ice cold shiver ran down his spine. His whole body stiffened and at the edge of his vision he could see Peril jumping to his feet.

Uncle Rudy didn't wait for him to answer. "I assume the Russian is with you?! I am really disappointed that you as an American haven't shot him yet… but good people are really hard to find these days, aren't they Mr. Solo?" Rudy drawled and Solo felt his heart beat pick up.

"What do you want? Did you call to condolence on our partner's death? Her blood is on your hands!"

His voice was low, but Illya was surprised by the menacing tone in it.   
He never had heard his partner speak like that.   
Solo was the one never losing his cool.   
Always speaking in light tones, no matter how dire the situation was.  
Illya was so close he could hear the laugh of Gaby's uncle.   
He wanted to reach through the phone and strangle the man.   
Kuryakin tried to reach for the phone, but Solo was faster, taking a step back.   
He gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.   
Illya tried again.   
Motioning his partner to give him the phone, but Solo shook his head.

"I considered you a smart man, Mr. Solo!" Rudy smacked his lips. "But I have to admit she really looked like my niece, didn't she? So tell me… how did the Russian take the news? It's a pity I wasn't there to see for myself" The man sighed heavily and Solo felt the muscle in his jaw ticking.

"Did you watch the film I sent you?"

"No!" His voice was like ice and he could see Peril's finger tapping. The Russian stood so close, he probably heard every word the German man said.

"Why not? It was a present for your Russian friend. I wanted him to see what he did to my poor niece. I had no other choice as to wash her clean. You know between you and me… I never thought my dearest niece would let a commie pig fuck her!" Uncle Rudy spat and Solo's eyes snapped to the Russian going still. Illya's eyes widened, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Solo was just about to deny, because they hadn't even kissed yet.   
He should know.  
Why would she say something like that?  
Solo drew in sharply a breath.   
She had done exactly the thing he had begged her not to do.  
She must have been very desperate.   
Tiredly he closed his eyes.

"What do you want Rudy? I'm certain you haven't called to simply chat. Besides you have nothing we would want!"

It was quiet on the other end.

"All business, I like it! Well I have a certain agent you want!" Illya stepped closer and the two agents were almost touching.

"Agent Teller is in a morgue. Ready to be shipped to London. In a casket!" Solo spat back, ignoring Illya's closeness.

Rudy clicked his tongue. "You are a terrible listener Mr. Solo! The girl you found was just a decoy… to through you off. I rather call it exquisite work. You know I really paid attention to the detail, did I not?" He laughed and it made Solo nearly through up.

"I'm willing to give you my niece for the tall Russian. The architect!" Rudy's voice had changed from lightly to somber and icy.

Solo glanced at Illya, who's stare would have frozen the whole universe.

"I want to talk to her!" Solo demanded his eyes still on the Russian.

Suddenly he heard sobs, sniffles and a whimper through the phone.   
It made his heart ache and he watched as his Russian partner turn pale.

"Gaby?" The American asked.

His own voice nearly breaking.   
He didn't get an answer back.   
He just heard more sniffles, sobs and whimpers.   
Then it stopped.

"As I said, I want the Russian architect and you will get my niece!" The icy voice of Gaby's uncle let Solo snap back.

"No! Listen to me", it took everything in him not insult the man, "you won't get anything until I have talked to Gabriella!"

"You just heard her!"

"That could have been a recording for all I've known. I want to be sure she is still alive! That this is not one of your tricks! As you said, you are really good in deceiving us! If I don't get a life sign from her, you won't get your deal!" He growled, ignoring Peril's ashen face.

Solo slammed the phone down.   
The room was drenched in an eerie silence.   
Illya looked paler than before.   
The American agent watched his partner, who seemed to have turned to stone.


	23. Nightmares

This was not like she had imagined death would be like.   
Not with all the pain, the hunger and the cold seeping through her skin.   
She didn't dare to move, because everytime she did there was a stabbing pain racing through her.  
She wanted to hold on to the darkness.   
The nothingness.   
As she had drifted through it after she had to look in her uncle's manic face.   
Splattered with her blood.   
Thinking that this was the end for her.

She wanted to dream of Illya and Solo and all the good memories they had.  
The many times she should have told the big Russian how much he meant to her.   
That she – for the first time ever – had fallen in love with someone and she had never expected it would be him.  
How many times she had missed the occasion to just tell him that she loved him.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked confused into a dimly lit room.  
Gaby was laying on the ice cold floor.   
Her hands were tied tightly together.  
She chuckled at that.   
They didn't need to tie her up as far as she was concerned she didn't have the strength to run, yet to stand up.  
Her mouth felt dry and she wondered when the last time had been that she had something to drink.

The door to her room opened all of a sudden and she wanted to shrink back from the figures entering the room, but her body didn't belong to her anymore.   
It was too broken.   
Too weak.

„Ready for another round?" Someone drawled in an accent she could hardly understand.

He stood over her and she could feel his filthy stare roam her body.

„But before we head to your uncle you're going to be a very nice girl to me!" The taller of the men kneeled down and brushed her hair out of her face.

She growled at him.

„Are you serious? He's going to kill you!" The other hissed.

„He will never know. If you spill the beans I will end you and he won't believe her… remember she let that commie pig fuck her. You can stand outside or watch. It is your choice!" The taller snapped back and turned again to her. His hand trailed down her neck to her shoulder.

Gaby could see the smaller guy shake his head and stand by the door, looking for intruders.  
Coward.

„You will be a very good girl, won't you?" He chuckled and she could see him finger with his belt.

Gaby groaned inwardly.  
This wasn't the first time someone tried to take advantage of her, but everytime it had happened she had been on her A-game.   
Not weak like this.

„Because if you are not….!" To emphasize his words he squeezed her broken arm and white hot pain shot through her.

Gaby cried out, but her scream got choked by his hand.  
She bit him then.   
Hard.   
She could taste his blood in her mouth.  
He cried out in pain and swore like a sailor.

„You let a commie pig fuck you… what did he do to get into your pants? Whore!" He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back hard, so she had to look at him.

Illya would have never done anything like this to her and there had been a lot of opportunities for him to get into her pants.  
The man slapped her hard and she could see only stars for a while.   
As she tried to blink them away he gagged her with a cloth.

„We don't want someone interrupting us, do we?" He whispered in her ear and his hot breath washed over her face.

She tried to rob away from him, but he pulled her close.   
The little stones digging into her skin.   
Leaving their marks on her.

„I have to admit I always liked my women to have fire in them" He said with a wicked smile.

„Let's see how much you have left" He let his hand trail down her leg and Gaby was suddenly glad her uncle had made her change into jeans and a shirt some time ago.

He hovered over her and she could smell him.   
She wanted to gag.   
She wanted to push him away, but her arm was still screaming in pain.   
Gaby felt him fumble with the button of her jeans.   
He got to his knees and Gaby could breathe again.   
He looked down on her that glint in his eyes, which made her scream inwardly.   
His hands were on his belt as his partner appeared again, panic in his eyes.

"We have to go now! He wants her!" The other panted and the man in front of her groaned displeased.

He leaned down.   
His lips brushed her ear as he was talking.

"Don't worry darling. We will repeat this as soon as possible!" Gaby couldn't hold back a whimper.


	24. Russian statue

I'm really sorry for not updating last weekend...so I try to make it up and update more this week as most of us are probably sitting in quarantine anyway ;)

* * *

"I'm sorry" Napoleon breathed, eyes softening as he looked at his frozen partner.   
The tall Russian looked like a statue.

"I couldn't let him fool us anymore… I.." Solo shook his head, lost for words and let his hand rack through his hair.

There was no reaction from the Russian what so ever.   
He still stared into space.   
This whole situation was maddening.   
Rudy was getting clearly on Solo's nerves and he felt the absolute desire to strangle the German man.

"I have to call Waverly!" Solo informed his partner with a huff, but not even that pulled the giant out of his stillness.

Napoleon called his boss, never leaving the tall Russian out of his sight.   
Frozen to the spot.   
Waverly picked up after the first ring.   
Napoleon informed him through codes what had happened.   
The line was not secure after all.  
Slowly he hung up.   
Turning again to his partner.

"Waverly is sending backup", no movement, "I think you will rather like that he is sending Olsen's team!" Solo drawled and that made the Russian blink.

Solo remembered clearly the last time the two teams had clashed.   
It had been more Illya and Olsen, which had clashed.   
The Russian showing his dislike against the man.   
Not because he was American, but rather he had tried to charm Gaby and had been appointed to be her date during the mission.

"He is not after your precious Gaby!" Solo had rolled his eyes, while he had gotten ready for the gala himself.

The Russian had only huffed at him.   
His blue eyes blazing with anger and jealousy.

"If he touches her. I'll break his neck!" Illya had growled.

Solo had rolled his eyes at him.   
If Gaby could have heard him, she wouldn't be pleased.   
She would be furious and there would be a lot of slammed doors be involved and a giant Russian begging for her forgiveness.

"He has to touch her. Remember she is his date for the gala." Solo had turned then looking at his partner. "Besides she is not yours, Illya!", the Russian's eyes blazed, "When are you finally making a move? She won't wait forever and before you know it there is someoneelse swooping her up!" Illya's blue eyes softened a little.

"I can't… is too dangerous!" He had mumbled nearly inaudible and for a second Solo had believed he hadn't said anything at all.

"Why don't you let her decide on that? I'm pretty sure she knows what she will get herself into"

Illya had looked away.   
Stubborn moron.

"Besides Olsen is not a threat to you regarding Gaby. He's interested in …", Solo paused, "others!"

Illya's head had snapped back to him.

"What do you mean?" The Russian had asked puzzled.

"Let's say he's not into women!"

The giant's brows had furrowed in confusion.   
Sometimes Peril's naivety was almost adorable, but sometimes it was just tiresome.   
Luckily there had been a knock at the door belonging to the little mechanic giving both of them a dazzling smile.

To make things worse Olsen had been the reason Gaby had been exposed and hurt.   
It still puzzled Napoleon how the American had not been killed through the hands of his partner.   
It had certainly cost him a lot of persuading and Illya had destroyed another hotel room and a hospital room.  
Letting Napoleon hope they wouldn't encounter the other team soon.  
Only God knows how that reunion would go.

"Why would she say that?" Illya whispered confused. The Russian's mind seemed to be elsewhere.

"I didn't…we never… why…!" Illya blinked at his partner and Solo could see the puzzle pieces slowly getting into order.

The Russian let out a sharp breath and slumped down to the next available seat, burring his head in his hands.   
Solo patted his friend's shoulder and made them some tea, while he heard Illya murmuring in Russian.  
It was no secret that he would blame himself.   
Even though it was not his fault.

"Can I ask you to behave when Olsen arrives?" Solo gave him his tea, watching him warily.

"Why would Olsen come?" Illya gritted between his teeth, his blue eyes flaring in anger.

Solo sighed tiredly.

"Waverly is sending them. He thinks we need some help and Martina is a doctor. She can help us with Gaby" Illya nodded and drank his tea.

Solo watched him.

"Illya?"

"Yes, I will behave! It's great opportunity for him to make up for last time!" The Russian rumbled and his finger clenched around the mug.

Solo hummed, hoping the mug wouldn't break under the pressure.  
They sat in silence for a while both men slowly sipping their tea.

"We should get to work!" Illya put his empty mug on the coffee table.

"I think we should catch some sleep!" Solo cautiously said, looking at his partner. "No reason to storm the building deprived with sleep!"

Peril rolled his eyes.

"We can sleep after! We have to check tracker!" He snapped annoyed and tried to get up, but all of a sudden the whole room started spinning. His arms felt heavy and so did his eyelids.

"You drugged me?" Illya asked astonished, his words slurred from a heavy tongue.

"Would you have laid down if I had asked you?" Solo asked both eyebrows raised.

Illya was unable to answer the question as his eyelids drifted close and he lost the control over his body.   
The last thing he heard was Solo's voice, promising him that they would start planning as soon as he would wake.


	25. Exchange of some sort

The coldness of the nacked wall, she leaned on, was seeping through Gaby's back.   
She didn't care.   
There was a soft smile playing along her split lip.   
Gaby felt warm and somewhat fuzzy.   
She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten a decent meal.   
Not that you could call the meal her uncle had just given her decent.

* * *

The two soldiers had brought her to a room with a big table.   
Had tied her hands to a chair.   
They had learnt not to underestimate her.   
The asshole, which had tried to rape her, had squeezed her broken arm as a reminder that he would come for her.   
Gaby had smiled at him, leaning closer to him and had murmured "When are you finally helping me to escape?"   
The shock on his face had made her somewhat happy.   
He had taken a big step back.   
Panicky looking at her uncle in the corner of the room.   
Afraid Rudy might had heard her.   
He knew what happened to the soldiers trying to help her or were suspected to help her escape.   
Just a couple of days ago her uncle had shot one.   
The little mechanic hadn't known that the man had tried to free her.   
Pity.

She had watched the asshole flee from the room.   
Her satisfied smile was wiped away as her uncle had turned to her.   
His small, watery eyes on her.   
She had looked down, pretending to be ashamed.

"Was ist los meine Kleine?" (What is it my dear?) He had asked.

She had pushed the anger down.   
Locked it inside her mind, somewhere.

"Ich habe nachgedacht…. Ich …" (I was thinking…. I…) She had sniffled.

It wasn't that hard.   
Gaby had always been a good actress.

"Wirst du mir jemals meinen abscheulichen Fehler verzeihen? Es tut mir so leid…. Ich war so dumm!"   
(Will you ever forgive me for my terrible betrayal? I am so sorry… I was so stupid!)

She had then looked at her uncle with tears in her eyes.   
In her mind she had heard Solo's voice loud and clear. "Whatever it takes. Stay alive. We will get you out. Do whatever it takes!"

Rudy had looked at her.   
There had been doubt in his eyes.

"Wir reden später darüber. Jetzt solltest du zuerst essen!" (We'll talk later. You should eat now!)

He let his fingers brush over her face and it took everything in her not to shrink back, not to snarl in disgust.

Just then one of his servants had brought in a bowl.   
The smell of it had made her mouth water.   
It was goulash soup.   
The most delicious thing she had eaten in a long time.   
Her uncle had fed her.   
Spoon for spoon until there was nothing left in the bowl.   
Of course he couldn't leave it out to torture her even with her dinner.   
Her patience had ran thin, but she didn't dare to let him find a reason to take her dinner away.   
It was hard to suppress the moan, which had threatened to slip past her lips as she had tasted the first spoon.   
And even harder to ignore the grin of her uncle as he saw how desperately she had wanted the food.

"Das ist ganz allein dein Fehler. Du hättest jeden Abend ein leckeres Essen bekommen. Aber du musstest es mir ja so schwer machen, mein kleines Häschen!" (This is all your fault. You could have had great dinners everyday. But you made it really difficult for me, my little bunny!)

Her uncle had purred.   
His face had been so close.   
His breath had been washing over her and the urge to just slam her head into his was nearly unbearable.   
Gaby had kept her eyes on the spoon full of food.   
They hadn't starved her, but she was just given enough food to function.   
Keeping her weak.   
Keeping her from running away or fighting them.   
The little mechanic had grasped at every opportunity to run away.   
They had dragged her back everytime.   
Adding to her collection of bruises.

The food had been laced with sedatives.   
To make her behave while her uncle was out meeting a contact.   
He had told her that he would be back soon.   
She didn't care.

* * *

Gaby felt all fuzzy and sleepy.   
Her head lolled to the side and she drifted off to sleep.

She dreamt of colors, Russians and sunshine.   
When she woke up she still felt the drugs cursing through her body, but her head felt clearer.   
Shluggishly she blinked at the door, which opened slowly.   
Somewhere inside of her fogged up mind was a shrill voice full of panic.   
The little mechanic blinked and as she opened her eyes again there was the smaller soldier from before crouching in front of her.   
His fingers ghosted over her and she wanted to slap them away, but her arms didn't obey her.

"Can you walk Miss Teller?" The man asked her with an anxious voice, looking over his shoulder.

She blinked at him while she fumbled for a snark comment.   
Her brain came up with nothing and she huffed instead.

"Come, I help you!" The man hauled her to her feet.

Surprisingly strong.   
He supported her weight as they walked slowly to the door and down the hall.  
Why was he helping her now?

They rounded another corner and Gaby froze.   
At the other end of the hallway leaned a tall man against the cracked wall.   
The small man beside her didn't register her resistance and dragged her on.   
Did he get her to bring her to the asshole?

The man pushed himself off the wall and sauntered down the hallway towards them.   
In a corner of her mind a voice wondered that he moved like Solo.   
But it couldn't be, right? 

This had happened way to often for her taste.   
So many times she had believed a soldier to be Illya, saw his eyes or heard his voice.   
Sometimes it was Solo, she had thought she had seen.   
Only to be dissappointed every time.   
She was not worthy to be saved.   
She was just another agent.   
Now at least they didn't need to look out for her anymore.   
They could move faster and weren't dragged down by her.   
They didn't need to watch out for her.

The small soldier stopped as the man reached them.

"You don't have much time… he is due back any minute!" There was utter panic in the soldier's voice and his fingers dug painfully in her arm.

Her head was spinning.   
Why did he do this?

She wanted to turn to the short man and yell at him.   
Maybe even punch him for doing this to her.   
But she had to focus all her strength to just keep standing on her own two feet.   
Besides she needed all her strength for afterwards.   
The little mechanic planned to give the asshole a hell of a time.

The taller man nodded shortly and turned his gaze towards her.   
She ignored him, giving the short man another glare.   
He would be next.   
He would wish to never been born.

The tall soldier's fingers wrapped around her healthy arm and pulled her along.   
His strides were long and his grip around her arm was secure.  
Gaby let him pull her alongside him through empty hallways.   
In her head she plotted already his downfall.   
He would enjoy hell afterwards, she told herself with a smirk.   
Just then the man yanked her into a side hallway.

The wall on her back was cold and the man in front of her way too close as he observed the hallway and the soldiers walking down.

"If you think I will go down easily… I swear to you…!" She hissed venomously.

The man didn't look at her as he watched the chatting guards.

"Well Teller, I never took you as the easy woman!"

The voice let her heart stop and freeze her in place.   
The little mechanic watched in utterly shock the man's head turn and give her a dazzling smile, which crinkled his eyes and immediately stilled all her panic inside of her.   
Relief washed over Gaby like an enormous wave and she felt her knees giving out under her.   
Solo caught her.   
His arm wrapped securely around her waist, keeping her upright.

"Ready to come home? I think family reunions are always overrated, don't you think?" He gave her another smile and the only thing she could do was nod.


	26. Taste of freedom

Solo and Gaby walked down the empty hallways in a brisk walk.   
Solo's fingers wrapped tightly around her healthy arm as if he was afraid he would lose her otherwise.   
Gaby's head swam from the joy and all the unanswered questions.   
But she was able to keep up with the tall man.   
Somewhere in her battered body had been a reserve of strength and she was now gladly using it.   
Every now and then she allowed herself to look at her partner, who now wore the costom mask all the soldiers of her uncle wore.   
Hiding his beautiful face.  
How did he find her?

She was certain they had changed places a couple of times and after they had taken her beloved ring, she had almost lost hope.  
Where was Illya?  
When her uncle would catch just one of them…  
The thought let ice cold thread twist in her gut.  
She tripped over her own feet and Solo kept her from falling, pushing her into another hallway.   
Gaby could feel his eyes on her.

"I'm fine!" She puffed, trying to get her labored breath under control.

"You don't look fine, Gabs!" His voice lacked all the jokes he usually packed into his voice and Gaby knew that these past days?   
Weeks?   
Hadn't been easy for him either.

"We thought you were dead!" He whispered and she wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly.

Had Illya thought she was dead?

"I'm not easily killed!" She sighed and closed her eyes briefly.

Solo chuckled. "You are one tough cookie!" Gently he brushed a hair strand from her face.

He still couldn't believe that he had found her.   
She looked terrible to say the least.   
Over her old bruises were new ones forming and she winced everytime he brushed over her other arm.   
What would Illya do if he saw her like this?

So battered.   
So broken.  
She was strong.   
The strongest woman he had ever encountered.  
The wounds would heal and with everything else they would help her.

"Let's get you home! I know a certain Russian, who can't wait to meet you!" She gave him a small smile, swallowing all the comments forming on her tongue.

But then her eyes widened in a sudden panic.

"He's not here, is he?"

* * *

The maps had been pinned to the wall of their room.   
Solo had starred at them for several minutes as if he had wanted to imprint them.   
The way to the compound and the layout of it.   
It hadn't taken Illya long to figure out were Gaby was at the moment and now the red needle marked the location of the compound.   
To their surprise it hadn't been that far away.   
Apparently there were a lot of abandoned compounds in this area.

"You sure she is there, Peril?" Solo had asked again and squinted at the maps.

He could feel the murder stare of his partner on him.   
Luckily looks couldn't kill or Solo was probably the most killed man on planet earth.

"No, I'm not sure! I like wild goose chase!" The Russian had rolled his eyes at him and turned.

"What are you doing?" Solo had asked careful.

"Getting ready!" Illya had huffed and changed his clothes into his usual work clothes.

The disappearing into the bathroom or in any other room to change had been long dismissed and it didn't bother them to change in front of one another.   
Even though the two men always turned their back if it was Gaby.

"You know the possibility of finding her is low and if we find her, we don't know how she is…" Illya had frozen, looking at his American partner, crossing his arms.

"She could be in terrible shape, Peril. She might not recognize us!" The Russian's finger had tapped his rhythm.

"I'll deal with it when it comes to it!" He had rumbled impatiently and Solo had risen one of his eyebrows.

"Do you? And how do you intend to stay calm when you see her? When she looks at you with a swollen eye and dried blood all over her face? When she cries out in agony because she can't stand on her broken leg? Or when she complains about not getting enough air? Do you really stay calm, when she shays away from you or begs you not to hurt her anymore with tears streaming down her face? Do you really stay calm? It took you less in the past to rip a man's throat out!" To Solo's surprise the Russian had stayed calm and had stared him down with his blue eyes.

"I will carry her and deal with other people after. Priority is to get her out!"

"You really think you can handle it?"

"Да!"

The tall Russian had grabbed his duffel bag and was about to head out the door, but Solo had stepped into his path.

"What Cowboy? Do you want to analyze me more? Do I have to pass some of your psychology tests?" Illya had asked mockingly and Solo had sighed tiredly.

"You know I once made a promise" The bewildered look he had gotten from Illya would have made him laugh any other day.

"I can't let you go! Walking into the lion's den and probably get caught!" Illya rolled his eyes at that.

"Very funny cowboy! What will you…"

Before Illya could have finished his sentence Solo had punched him and the tall man's eyes rolled back.   
When Illya had fallen, Napoleon could have sworn the room had trembled from the impact.  
Rubbing his hurting knuckles he had stepped next to the unconscious man.   
With a tired sigh he had looked at the Russian.

"I'm sorry my friend, but I promised her to protect you and we both know you might not handle it. If her uncle gets you she will never forgive me!" He had grabbed one of the cushions and had put his friend's head on it.   
Along his jaw was already a bruise forming.   
At least Gaby would see that he had tried.

"I promise I will get her and there will be no need for you to be angry with me!" Solo had left then for the compound, leaving his comrade with a bruise and a headache when he woke up.

* * *

"Our Russian bear has probably just woken up and wants to kill me!" Solo joked and pulled her up a flight of stairs.

"Thank you!" Gaby whispered nearly inaudible.

Napoleon didn't know how grateful the small German woman was for him leaving his comrade behind.   
She probably couldn't have dealt with Illya walking around here.   
So close to her uncle, who wanted to get his hands on the tall Russian.  
Solo nodded shortly as his attention was drawn to a full packed garage.   
Row on row of black jeeps filled the huge space.   
Inviting to pick one as their getaway car.

The bitter cold wind, heavy with snow, blew into the the garage and made Gaby shiver.   
Solo pulled one of the warm coats next to them and draped it over the small woman shoulders.

"We will be out here in no time, let's go!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the front of the garage.

"Will you hotwire a car?" She asked curiously as they made their way to the gaping entry.

She could smell her freedom and could hardly contain her giddiness.  
Solo dangled a pair of keys in front of her.

"No need!"

Something had drawn her attention to look outside the garage and her heart froze.  
Solo must have sensed it as he followed her gaze and his grip around her arm tightened.

"Shit!" He swore under his breath.

"Solo", she swallowed hard and tears threatened to come, "you have to leave!"

"No! I'm not leaving you here!" He hissed under his breath.

Not far from them stood a group next to a helicopter.   
One of the men was unmistakenly her uncle and they all had just turned to them.  
A smile crossed her uncle's face and with his left hand he waved at two soldiers.

"You have to!", her voice turning into steel, "Please!"

"Gaby!"

"I'll be okay! You will get me!" She didn't dare to look at her friend.

"I can't leave you here. He's going to kill me… he.." His grip didn't falter.

Panic was rising inside of her.   
If her uncle caught Solo.   
She didn't want to imagine this.   
He would have her like he wanted.   
He would have full control over her.

"You have to go! Please!" She begged panic seeping into her voice.

"Peril will…" Solo tried again his fingers digging into her arm.

"It's okay! He will understand! Please take care…" She couldn't finish her sentence as two soldiers jogged up to them.

"So why does my uncle let me be dragged up here?" Gaby snarled at the two men.

They ignored her as usual and grabbed her arms.   
She felt the loss of Solo's hand like a physical blow.   
Her heart turning heavy with every step they took away from him.   
The snow crunching under their shoes.  
Don't look back.  
Don't look back.  
She chanted in her head.   
It was hard not to do it.  
Gaby wanted to cry and yell.   
She had tasted freedom and now they ripped it away from her in a matter of a second.


	27. Eyes on the hill

A freezing wind was whipping over them and the snow beneath him wasn't warm either, but it didn't bother Illya.   
It was nothing against Russian winter and the slight form pressed next to him in the snow didn't complain either.

„It's nothing compared to Swiss winter!" She had hissed and had given him a broad smile.

* * *

Martina had found him on the hotel room floor and had generously poured water on his face.  
Before he had the chance to snarl at her she had offered him two white tablets.   
„To ease your headache!" She chimed and smiled at him.   
Behind her her constant Chinese shadow was eyeing him carefully.

* * *

Illya shot her another glance.   
Martina had followed him like an annoying fly and had snatched the sniper rifle right out of his hands.

„We don't want you to shoot someone!" He had narrowed his eyes at her and Cho behind her had crossed his arms, daring him to do something.

Illya hadn't been in the mood of getting on the bad side of the Chinese man nor the Swiss woman, who generously gave him her best binoculars.

„They are Swiss made and yes I want them back!" Cho had used it as his key to disappear into the forest to take over his post.

„He is quite the chatter box!" Illya had huffed as he had watched the man walk off.

„Mmmh, sometimes I hardly can shut him up!" Martina had hummed and had glanced over her shoulder with a soft smile playing on her lips.

Now they both lay hidden, watching the compound down below with great interest.  
Illya's whole body stiffened as two figured appeared in the wide entry of some sort of a garage.   
He immediately recognized Solo even though his face was behind a mask.   
His partner's fingers were tightly wrapped around an arm.

Cowboy had found her.   
Breath escaped his lungs in a rush as he took in the small form of his German partner.   
Solo might have been right.   
He didn't think he would have been able to control himself.   
Even now from so far away Illya could feel hot anger boiling up inside of him as he took in the gravity of Gaby's injuries and those were just the ones he could see.   
He balled his fist.   
Earning a cautious look from Martina.

Solo was just dangling a set of keys in front of Gaby, coaxing a smile onto the lips of the little mechanic.   
Illya drummed his fingers nervously on his binoculars as he watched his two partners.

„Common Cowboy! Stop wasting time!" He wanted her out of there as fast as possible.

„I think we have a problem!" Martina breathed next to him.

Illya didn't need to turn as he could see first Gaby's eyes widening in shock and then Solo's body stiffening.   
He didn't need to read his lips as he knew is partner all too well that he swore under his breath.

Solo, you have to leave! 

Illya's insides turned to ice.

„Don't you dare, Cowboy!" The tall Russian hissed through his teeth and to his satisfaction the American refused.

His fingers wrapping tighter around her arm.   
He wasn't able to read the American's lips, but he knew anyway that Solo argued.

It's okay! He will understand! Please take care…

Two soldiers reached them and he could see a mask slipping on her face.   
Indifferent.   
Annoyed.   
He felt pride flare up.

With dread he watched as Solo let go of their partner.   
It was like a slap in his face to see her dragged away from Cowboy.   
Gaby held her head high like the strong woman she was.   
Illya knew how hard it was for her not to look back.   
Not to glance over her shoulder for the last time to see her rescue slip through her fingers.  
It took everything inside of him not to howl outloud.

„I could shoot them!" Martina suggested.

Illya's lip parted just as Gaby's eyes darted up, locked with him.   
Her brown warm eyes boring into his blue ones.   
She probably didn't know that he was there, but something must have told her.   
Maybe her instinct or maybe the little chop shop girl just always knew where he was.

Don't do anything stupid!

The message was loud and clear.

„Njet, we need better plan. Shooting will just make them change compound!" Illya grumbled and watched Gaby stopping in front of her uncle.

The thick coat Solo must have hung over her shoulders just minutes ago did little for her as she was shivering in the cold.   
All Illya wanted to do was tuck her in his side and warm her.

„You know I would love to put a hole through that head!" Martina mumbled annoyed.

„Patience my Swiss friend! You can help me torture him later!"

„I take this as a promise you know! Cho has showed me some Chinese torture methods and I haven't tried them out yet! He would be the perfect opportunity!" She gave him a wicked grin.

Illya nodded once and his knuckles turned white as he watched Rudy slap Gaby.   
The small woman went to her knees from the force of the hit, but the soldiers to her side straightened her right away.   
Blood was dripping down her split lip as she grinned at her uncle and mumbled something.   
One of the soldiers squeezed her arm and her face turned white.   
She looked like she would pass out any minute.

„Don't break my binoculars, please!" Martina's glove covered hand touched his shaking hands, pulling him out of the red mist, which was about to descend.

Illya breathed in shakily.   
The freezing air freeing his lungs.  
They both watched as her uncle commanded his group back to the shelter of the compound.   
The two soldiers grabbing Gaby on both sides, dragging her along behind the group.  
The gap from the group seemed to grow as all of a sudden Gaby tripped, taking the left soldier with her.

„What the…!" Martina breathed in astonishment as the German woman punched the first guy then whirled her legs swiftly around sweeping the remaining soldier to the ground.   
She was all of a sudden on her feet, kicking the head of the soldier.   
Not waiting to see if he was out she ran.

This brought movement into Kuryakin.   
Before Martina could hold onto the Russian he was up and sliding down the snowy hill.


	28. Racing to freedom

It was like someone else had taken over her body.   
It was like she was watching the whole scene from somewhere else.   
Gaby didn't know from where she had taken the sudden energy flowing through her body, but her body knew what to do and as the two soldiers lay on the floor she ran.

The snow crunched under her shoes and the wind bit freezingly at her face.   
She ran towards the line of trees.   
The big pine trees covered in snow.   
They would hide her. 

Her coat held on to her stubbornly.   
Doing little into warming her, but refused to fall into the snow.   
She didn't stop.   
Somewhere inside of her mind a tiny voice called out that Solo would maybe even see her and wait for her.   
He would help her and getting her to his getaway car.   
He would free her from those stupid handcuffs digging into her raw wrists and smile proudly at her.   
She would ask him to turn up the heater, because she was so damn cold.

Gaby reached the first pine trees.   
Raising above her like giants covered in their white coats of snow.   
Promising her to protect her.   
She didn't stop there, she pushed on.   
The further, she promised herself, the better.

The snow grew higher.   
Had it before been just a few inches, it now reached her calves.   
She knew it must have been even deeper, but part of it must have frozen solid underneath it and she was probably too light to sink in.   
Her breath was raising in small clouds, coming out labored.   
She staggered, caught herself and felt the exhaustion nibble on the edge of her coincidence.   
Gaby pressed her lips together and pushed on.

A movement caught her attention and let her freeze right on the spot.   
She narrowed her eyes, thinking she might had just imagined it.   
There it was again, moving towards her.   
He was all dressed in white.   
Perfect camouflaged and if he had stood still she might have even missed him.   
Relief washed through her, turning her legs into jelly.   
She pressed on, closing the distance.   
The relief was soon replaced by terror and utter panic.   
Illya was too close to the compound.   
Solo had promised her that he was far away.   
Unconscious in their hotel room.

He had promised.

„Stubborn Russian!" She snarled under her breath pushing on, willing her feet to move faster.

Gaby would give him some piece of her mind later.   
She knew it would only cause him to smile slightly while he would insist to look at her injuries.   
He would nod at her words and doing the same the next time.

Something hit her hard into her left shoulder.   
She stumbled forward.   
Pain exploded. 

The little mechanic just had time to look up.   
Illya's eyes were wide in shock and she knew he would reach her in a matter of seconds and tear everything apart.   
She knew also the place would be swarmed with her uncle's soldiers shortly.   
Too many for him to take on.   
If they got him.   
If they got him.   
The dread let her blood ran cold and she mouthed „Don't Illya! Hide!"

Then something hit her leg and it brought her down into the snow.   
Through the haze of pain she prayed Illya would hide as she could hear the force of her uncle arrive.   
For once she hoped he wouldn't be too stubborn and listening to her.   
Even though it might be hard for him.

Had they shot her?   
If they did, she would die here in the snow.   
She couldn't move as the pain seared through her body.   
Gaby imagined her blood soaking the white snow red.   
Leaving an imprint till the next snowfall would burry it.

A pair of black boots stopped right next to her face, interrupting her daydreaming.

„Incredible Miss Teller! I have to say I've never seen so much determination in someone to get free!" A deep voice sneered.

The man kicked her side so hard she could hear a rip crack.   
As she struggled to get air, she rolled on her back.   
The sky above her was grey.   
Clouds full of snow.   
Like on cue it started to snow softly.   
Gaby blinked, watching the snowflakes dance to the ground and listening to the soldiers around her.   
None had yelled that they had found someone.

Please let Illya be safe, she thought desperately.

It was her only wish right now.

„One day I will get free and put a bullet through your head!" She said softly, smiling when the commander glared at her.

The little mechanic didn't see the boot coming her way.   
There was only sharp pain splitting her head in half and then blissful darkness descending on her.


	29. So close and yet so far

He was sure she didn't see him at first.   
Racing towards her through the ridiculous deep snow.   
He believed nothing could stop him now.   
It's like they have a string between eachother and it is guiding the little mechanic through the snow towards him.   
He noticed the moment she realized him closing in.   
The flicker of relief washing over her, making his own heart miss a beat.   
The joy however was quickly replaced by panic and he watched her running faster.   
The tall Russian himself gained speed, moved faster than before.

All of a sudden she stumbled.   
Something had hit her.   
Her head snapped up and he could see the pain in her face.

"Don't Illya! Hide!" Even though she was just mouthing the words.   
He heard them like she was yelling them at him.   
The hell he would hide like a coward dog.   
To his shock he saw her stumble as something hit her again and his little chop shop girl fell into the snow.   
Did they shot her?

His blood ran cold.

No!

Not like this!

Panic made him stop.

Halt in his steps and suddenly there was someone grabbing him with so much force he stumbled to the side.   
Hands pulled him into the safe shadow of a pine tree.   
Illya was so stunned he didn't fight back at first.   
The person slammed him into the thick tree trunk, knocking the air out of his lungs.   
The KGB training quickly kicked in, but before he could defend himself there was a pair of blue eyes glaring at him.

"Why did you think I knocked you out? To follow me?" Solo whispered anger lacing his voice.

"Martina said we could go!" He answered timidly. Even in his ears he sounded like a kid trying to evade punishment.

"Strittmatter? She is here?" Solo let go of his collar and looked back as if agent Strittmatter would walk up to them.

Illya nodded and tried to get away from Solo's grip.   
He had to help Gaby.   
But Solo's grip on him was firm and he slammed the tall Russian back on the trunk.

"Where do you think you are going?" He hissed his eyes shooting daggers.

The two agents had no time to discuss anything further as they both straightened up as they heard someone coming closer.   
Solo quickly nodded towards the treetop and without another word the two partners climbed up the pine tree.

Solo glanced at his partner as they sat on different tree branches.   
Through a gap in the tree they could see the whole scene unfolding beneath them.   
Gaby was laying in the snow.   
Face down.   
Unmoving.

For a short moment Solo believed the little mechanic to be dead.   
Illya watched with a grim face as a commander of some sort stepped next to their friend.   
Solo felt his shoulders relax when he noticed a tiny twitch in her hand.   
She was indeed tough their German comrade.   
Solo flinched as the man kicked the small woman and he believed Illya nearly launched himself from the tree.   
Gaby turned on her back clearly struggling to breathe.   
Her hands still in handcuffs was she no match for the towering commander, who watched his minions search the surroundings.

The man's head snapped to the little mechanic.   
The two agents couldn't read what she had said, but they could see the anger on the man's face.

"Oh Gaby!" Solo breathed and they helplessly had to watch the man kicking their little mechanic in the head. Knocking her out. Illya next to him growled and Solo noticed his hands shaking violently.

"We need a plan to get her out", Solo murmured not really getting the attention of Peril, "tonight!"

The Russian's eyes darted back to Solo just for half a second and then setteling again on Gaby.

"I'm all ears Cowboy!"


	30. A deal is made

The first time she had been kidnapped had been fairly in the beginning of her work with UNCLE.  
Back then she hadn't understand the fuss about it.  
The little mechanic had made a mistake.  
A fatal one.  
One she scolded herself over and over again as she had sat in a small cell, trying to get rid of the rope around her wrists.  
She could remember the burn around her wrist and the days after it being angry red and reminding her of her mistake.

It had been just a day before the incident in the living room of yet another luxurious suite as Illya had fumed.  
Gaby had read the local newspaper not really concentrating on the news exactly.  
Solo had sat in the armchair drinking his favorite scotch.  
The American had tried to calm down the Russian giant.

"This is stupid!" Illya had called out again.

"Stupid like getting nicked by a bullet and not telling your partners about it?" She had asked back over the edge of the paper.

Illya had shot her a glare with which he could have burnt her to ashes.  
He hated them for bringing this up, which nearly had cost them the mission in Istanbul because he had been too stubborn.  
Gaby had held his gaze before he had continued to walk like a caged tiger up and down.

"You will walk a hole through the carpet!" Solo had sighed.

"You will not go!" Illya had ignored Solo and pointed at the little German woman.

"You're not the commander of this mission my dear!" She had spoken sweetly, turning another page.

She had felt his gaze on her and had waited for him to speak.  
To throw something in her face.

"If you get taken you are on your own!"

"I will find a way out. Don't worry!"

"I don't worry!" He had spat back and Gaby could see from the edge of her vision Solo raising his eyebrows like yeah, you do and you will!

"I will be fine Illya!" He had huffed at that.

"If you get taken, don't think Solo or I will come running for you. You will be on your own!" Illya had crossed his arms like she had to cave in.

"I know!" He had starred at her angrily his finger tapping on his arm.

"Solo and I won't rescue you!" He had tried again.

"Sure thing. I'm a big girl I will rescue myself!" She had said over the newspaper shooting him one of her sweet smiles.

The Russian had stared at her before he turned and disappeared in his room.

It had been his voice telling her he wouldn't come for her as the goons had grabbed her sending an ice cold thread through her.  
The last thing she saw in her mind was his angry glare before one of them had knocked her out.

In the end Gaby had saved herself.  
She had made it out.  
The little mechanic had escaped through the small window in her cell.  
Her kidnappers thinking she wouldn't fit or dare to climb through it.  
She had made it without the help of the Russian or the American she had thought as she wandered through the lonely streets, running from her captures.  
Gaby had just rounded a corner as she bumped into a black figure.  
She remembered the panic bubbling up as she had tried to get away and the figure had grabbed her like an iron clasp.  
Blue eyes had met hers and she had stilled instantly.

"Illya!" She had breathed and a soft smile had stolen itself on her lips.

The comment about him not coming to her rescue died as soon as she had seen the relief washing through his eyes, being replaced quickly with anger.

"What were you thinking!" He had hissed.

His eyes looking her up and down for injuries.

"I'm fine!" She had reassured him, but as soon as his fingers had trailed over her bruised rips she had hissed at him and shrank away.  
Illya had frowned at her and without another comment had brought her back to the hotel.  
The doctor, who had patched her up later had been close to have his throat ripped out.  
Illya had looked like bloody murder everytime she had hissed in pain or flinched.  
Only the magic gaze of Solo had held the Russian back.  
His worried gaze had stayed for days on her.  
His shadow following her wherever she went.  
She had growled at him.  
Had yelled at him to stop fussing around.  
She hadn't understood.

Her second kidnapping made her finally realize in what danger she had been in and only when Illya had been taken for the first time since they had been a team Gaby understood the agony the Russian went through everytime she got taken.  
The little mechanic would never forget the time she had seen a gun pressed against the Russian's head nor the feeling of absolute helplessness when masked men had taken him away from her.  
All those times of Illya being taken, beaten, shot or injured in any way during their jobs were locked inside a box deep in her mind.  
She kept it locked away and the memories only haunted her as nightmares when she wasn't with him.  
His presence kept them away.  
Locked in the box.

On a cold and grey day just after a dreadful mission in the north she had made a vow next to his hospital bed.

* * *

It was the vow that had been on her mind when Gaby came to herself.   
Her uncle was sitting on the other side of the long table.   
He didn't see her blinking against the bright lights, trying to get rid of her blurry vision.   
His watery eyes were trained on some paperwork in front of him.   
Her head hurt and she could taste the copper of her own blood on her tongue.

"I'm disappointed in you!" He looked up, his gaze flickering over her face.

Gaby sighed tiredly and let her gaze sweep through the room.   
She was disappointed in herself as well.   
Panic flared up again in the pit of her stomach as she remembered Illya being too close for comfort to her uncle's hide out.   
What if they had caught him?   
She would never forgive herself or Solo.   
Gaby still felt the lingering gaze of her uncle on her and let her eyes snap on his face.   
He was watching her carefully like a snake a bunny ready to strike.

"Do you really think those bastards will rescue you? Do you really think they care about you?" He asked her while sorting through his papers.

Gaby tried to sit up, but her rips screamed in protest.   
That bastard surely had broken another one of her rips.

"You are just a source to them. Big Russia and America do you really think they care about you? They both want your father's secrets. You are the only one, who knows about the plans. About his works." He snipped at one of the soldiers leaning against the barren wall.

The man jumped immediately to the side of his boss.   
He gave him a plastic zipper.

"Make it tight, would you?" He ordered the man his eyes never leaving his niece.

Gaby tried to swallow the bitter taste of betrayal.   
If her uncle knew how close he was to the truth.   
How much it had hurt her.

"And you care?" She hissed at him.

Gaby glared at the soldier, who grabbed her wrists still in handcuffs.

"Of course I do. You are my family. Those bastards are good little agents and devoted servants to their countries. You are just another mission for them! But you are my blood!"

It took everything in her not to spit at him, to yell he was nothing to her.   
Just then white hot pain flared through her and the little mechanic almost fell off the chair if the soldier hadn't grabbed her and pushed her back.   
He wasn't gentle as he zipped the cable tight around her wrists.   
The plastic cutting painfully into her raw skin.   
Through her haze of pain Gaby watched another soldier enter the room and placing a telephone in front of her uncle.

"I'm about to strike a deal with Mr. Solo concerning a Russian agent, but he wants me to confirm you to be alive!"

"What's the deal?" She pressed out between her teeth.

There was a soft smile playing on his lips.

"I get the Russian in exchange for you!" The glint in his eyes made Gaby wanting to puke right there.

"He will never!" A big hand clasped over her shoulder and pulling her back.

Gaby hadn't realized she had leaned forward.

"I thought I was your family and now you are exchanging me for a Russian?" She hissed at him, but her uncle was ignoring her as he was already dialing Solo's number.

With dread she watched her uncle talk with Solo like he was an old friend.

"Oh yes, she's sitting in front of me. You want to talk to her?" Gaby shook her head, but her uncle was smiling at her showing his teeth.

"Say hello to your partner, won't you? Be a nice girl my dear Gaby!" He gave the receiver to one of his soldiers and the man pressed it to her ear.

Gaby wanted to lean away, but the soldier behind her grabbed her hair and made sure she stayed in place.

"Gaby?" Solo's voice brought tears to her eyes.

She didn't want to cry and she blinked them rapidly away.

"Please…don't", she hated how her voice wobbled, "…please don't make that deal!"

There was a deep sigh.

"Gaby…" Solo started, but she didn't let him finish.

Cold panic had gripped her and made it hard for her to breathe.   
Because she knew Illya would be stupid enough to sacrifice himself.   
He wouldn't want to hear a no as an answer and argue with Solo until the American would agree.   
She knew how convincing the Russian could be.   
She knew through what hell he went through right now.   
His judgement clouded.

"No Solo! This was my mistake… Illya and you said you wouldn't come for me if I get caught!" She said in a hurry, remembering the night in the hotel room.

Illya always came for her.   
Ignoring the threat he had made in the suite.   
He always found her no matter what and so did Napoleon.   
But right now Gaby wanted them to turn their backs on her.

"I won't leave you there!" Solo gritted between his teeth.

She knew there were many things he wanted to say, but wasn't able to tell her, afraid the others could hear him.  
Before either one of them could say something the receiver was snatched away from her.   
Gaby tried to launch herself from the chair, but the soldier behind her held her in place.

Uncle Rudy watched her with sparkling eyes and a mild interest.

„Bring her to her cell. I will deal with her later!" He ordered.

Gaby got pulled to her feet and dragged out of the room like a doll.   
Even though she was kicking and screaming.   
It didn't matter to them.   
The last thing she heard as she got removed from the room was her uncle's voice.

„So Mr. Solo lets talk about that deal of ours!"


	31. Escaping in your mind

The soldiers threw her into her cell like a rag doll.   
The little mechanic didn't even bother to caution her fall.   
The little stones bit into her skin, scrapped over the exposed parts and left their marks.   
Her head hit the nacked floor making her vision dim on the edges.   
Gaby watched them go, closing her eyes tiredly as the metal door banged shut.   
The hallow sound filling the small room and making her heart ache.   
What was Solo thinking?   
He could have never agreed to Illya to exchange himself.   
What had happened to his promise?   
She would never forgive him.   
The possibility of Illya in the hands of her uncle.   
Hot tears ran down her nose dripping on the floor.   
Gaby didn't bother.   
She curled into a ball as good as her injuries allowed and tried to forget the world around her.   
Letting herself drift into a world of her own.

* * *

She tried to picture the appartement in London with the big windows and the big kitchen, where Solo loved to cook and the evening light would spill into.   
The huge bookcase in the living room they had filled with so many wonderful books and trinkets Gaby brought always back from their missions.   
The small coffee table on which Illya had his chess set placed.   
Solo and Gaby had gotten the rare set for his birthday.   
A soft smile tugged on her lips as she remembered his birthday.   
The tall Russian not aware that his partners had figured out when it was.   
The shock on his face as he saw the cake with the candles and the presents.   
She would never forget it.   
In her mind she let her fingers trail over the soft fabric of their two couches standing in front of the fireplace her favorite part of the appartement.   
They had spent many hours here.   
They had conversations until way past midnight and chess matches until her eyelids had grown heavy.   
Solo told them many stories and filling up her glass with liquor, which ran down her throat like fire and honey.   
And then there were the many hours she had spent watching Illya.   
Memorizing his face, the little ticks he had while playing chess like pinching his lips with his thumb and point finger, the furrowing of his brows or when he would chew on his bottom lip.   
How many times had she caught herself wishing to trace those lips or to feel them on her.   
When he would brush with his long fingers through his hair making it an adorable mess, she had to force herself not to stare.   
The fire in the fireplace not only let his face turn golden and soft, but give his hair a glow to envy.   
Gaby had always believed to be careful when she had stared at him, but with Illya you never knew.   
He looked like an angel she had often thought.   
The little mechanic would never tell him this, because he would look at her confused and furrow his brows.

"I'm not small, fat angel with fluffy wings!" He would grumble and might take it as an offense.

The little mechanic had often fallen asleep on the couch with a book, a magazine or the cat on her.   
Illya never missed his duty to carry her to bed.   
Not even when she stayed up late to wait for him and Solo to get home from a job.   
When he himself was exhausted.   
Gaby had to admit that she sometimes had pretended to sleep only to let him carry her to her bed.   
Only to cling to him there and pull him on the bed with her.   
She slept much better with him at her side.   
Gaby knew how much it had hurt him when she had stopped their little ritual.   
The hurt in his eyes when she had gotten up from the couch and went to bed herself.   
Him halting in his little match, starring after her.   
Gaby also remembered clearly the time when she, after weeks, let herself fall asleep on the couch again.   
His careful touches, swooping her up like she might evaporate.  
Gaby let herself walk further to the huge windows revealing not only the view on their balcony with all the plants Solo tried to care for, but also over the city. Gaby loved this place and the people, who lived here. She wanted to go back.  
The little mechanic wanted….

* * *

Metal screeching over the floor made her eyes fly open.   
Before she could even blink two soldiers hauled her to her feet, pushing her to the door and into the cold hallway.

„Your uncle made a deal! We're getting our hands on your Russian tonight!" One of them whispered into her ear.

Before even Gaby registered it the man was wailing, holding his bleeding nose and her head buzzed from the impact.   
The other soldiers froze for a second before one of them smacked her hard.   
Her head whipping to the side.   
She felt the warm blood running over her chin from the reopened lip.  
One of them grabbed her chin, pulling her closer.   
His lips brushed her ear and his reeking, warm breath washed over her, making her gag.

"I still have to fulfill my promise to you. Don't think I forgot about it!"

Gaby couldn't help the whimper escaping her lips.   
He let his lips ghost over her cheek and his hand trail down her body.   
He didn't see it coming nor did the others.   
Her knee hit him full force in the groin.   
The creep doubled over, swearing and groaning.   
One of the soldiers yanked her back.   
Nearly tripping her off her feet.   
The little mechanic bumped into him, but quickly caught herself.

"Never underestimate me. You.."

She made a step towards him, but the other soldier yanked her back.   
With a swift movement he grabbed her around her waist and threw her over his shoulder.   
Gaby kicked him, but he didn't seem faced by it as he walked down the hallway with a kicking and screaming Gaby over his shoulder.


End file.
